


Sandcastles

by SHSL_Bullshit



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero
Genre: Child Neglect, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Memory Loss, Parent Death, Rating May Change, Slow Build, Slow Burn, The battle between hope and despair develop as they grow up., Verbal Abuse, sociopathic tendencies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-04-04 04:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHSL_Bullshit/pseuds/SHSL_Bullshit
Summary: Matsuda honestly couldn't figure out what got him so drawn to the girl named Enoshima Junko. She was insane, psychotic, unhinged and even kind of an idiot.Then what did make him fall for the woman who loved despair more than anything else in the first place?(A story that explores the relationship between Matsuda and Junko, from their early childhood to the tragedy. Contains Danganronpa Zero spoilers)





	1. Prologue

The human brain has always been a mystery. It was more than just a hard riddle to be solved or any mathematical problem to be analyzed.

Being not only the operation system of every of the body's functions and mechanism, but also the core of one's self.  

It was truly a remarkable thing, yet incredibly absurd. Because the more elaborated and developed a system is– the more fragile it gets, the more flaws or defects it contains. Even the smallest injury, one sole error is just enough to leave drastic consequences that might turn one's life upside down.

Matsuda Yasuke couldn't remember when exactly he got so interested in neurology, but he wished that he knew this fact much, much earlier. That useful piece of knowledge could spare him years of unnecessary mess.

Being born to a single mother wasn't something he'd ever complained about. He can't recall his mother talking about his father a lot, nor that he'd ever asked. As long as he had his mother to hold his hand, to make him food and read him a story before going to bed, he needed nothing else.

However it hasn't always stayed that way– his mother's touch was long gone as she started distancing herself from him as he grew up. He’d never could figure out why, but things only gotten worse; day after day passed with another panic attack and hysterical screams. Every time she saw his face she would look at him with pure disdain and alienation in her eyes, like she never knew him. She was no longer the mother who looked at him with subtle gaze and motherly love– just a cold, loony woman taking the shape of his mother.

Soon enough, the beaten and neglected boy caught the attention of the neighbours, no one could ignore the daily routine of hollers and the sound of breaking furniture from his house. And the days of suffering ended with social workers dragging the mother to hospitalisation.

_“Don't worry child, your mother maybe lost it but everything's okay now.”_

He remembered one of his neighbours saying as he watched his mother getting forced into the vehicle.

_“Where are they taking her? Will she really be okay?”_

_“She's gonna be just fine. They're good people, they're here to help your mom get better. It might take time, but everything will be okay.”_

Back then, he was foolish enough to believe that.

His mother was initially diagnosed with what the doctors called “Alzheimer”. They explained it as a “chronic neurodegenerative disease that usually starts slowly and worsens over time”.

Being the ignorant child that he was, the boy could hardly make sense of what the doctors were saying. But as they elaborated about the list of symptoms– loss of short term memory, problems with language, disorientation, mood swings, loss of motivation, not managing self care, and behavioural issues– they confirmed his mother's condition, and Matsuda figured that the mother he knew won't be back anytime soon.

It was the time when the lack of the other parent was a problem. With no one to take him under their custody, the boy was taken to the first place willing to accept him. And so the local foundation for orphaned children became his new 'home’. 

* * *

If there was an important lesson that Matsuda was ever taught after being separated from his only family– is that some things are better left hidden.

It was a common routine, a status quo that guided people lives– it was for the best just to keep tragedies and crises a secret. Sweep them under the rug and don't ever let a soul know they exist.

But even if some would choose to forget, others would always remember. People who choose to forget their problems just create more problems for others.

And he belonged to those who remembered, forced to live with knowledge leaning like a heavy burden upon his fragile shoulders, with no one to turn to– Nor the grown-ups around him or those he got to call his “brothers and sisters”.

Because like them, he was just another pitiful boy with no real home. He heard children excitedly exchange stories of “how they got here”, it was almost like as if they were prisoners discussing the crimes got them into prison. The fellow orphans tried squeezing his story out of him, and that's when he applied the lesson of keeping his troubles a secret.

He had learned that being an 'orphan’ doesn't necessarily mean your parents kicked the bucket; it's when you have no family members or a guardian to take responsibility for you, give you a proper shelter or provide your needs. Or as some other kids liked to call it _“nobody wants you”._

The first thing coming to his mind whenever the word “family” was brought up was just enormous, white corridors that seemed endless.

The visits at the hospital lost their purpose over time. He was sick of going to that place, where everything looked colorless and empty, cold and sterile.

How easy was it for _her_ to forget, while he's the only one who has to endure everything; the insults, the yells and the screams– it was utterly infuriating.

How easy is it for those doctors to just look down at him impatiently with pitiful gazes and tell him the same thing over and over again.

Days turned to month, and months turned to years, and there was no improvement of his mother's condition whatsoever.

If he could call her _that_ anymore.

But that's just how things are, it's easy to forget, it's best to forget.

But he wasn't capable of such luxury, so he soothes himself by reading; from the most basic of fairy tales classics to the cheapest book or manga out there, everything the library or his monthly allowance could let him have. He read from day to midnight, letting his mind immersed in the countless of words and colorful illustrations. 

And it did help– not to forget, but it helped him calm down the storm of unbearable emotions. Anger, distress, pain and sadness. All disappeared into thin air the moment he reunited with his books by the end of the day.

* * *

Matsuda considered his time at elementary school as a temporary timeout in-between the time at the orphanage and his visits at the hospital.

The staff members and teachers never bothered to ask him about his mother’s condition at all, and he preferred it that way. It was none of their business.

He hardly interacted with the other children. And whenever he did, he just made them more wary of him. It took only one remark about their clothes, face, or even better–their “family”–to make them go away, it was an effective strategy. 

His cheeky, sarcastic remarks were getting on the nerves of the teachers, he remembers how their faces always twisted at him as if they got stung by a venomous bee.

Over time his reputation amounted to "the unfriendly kid who just reads manga all day", and the outstanding grades at almost every subject made him even more of an outcast.

But he couldn't care any less about any of that, none of them cared for him, people were idiots who stick around one another like a flock of mindless sheep, engaged in petty conflicts. As long as he had his books, he was satisfied. Nobody was truly worth his time, he had no patience for anybody.

Well, maybe except for _one_ person.

Enoshima Junko was indeed a strange girl– always erratic and whimsical, yet more smart then she lets on, apparently.  

The girl was hard to miss. Her hair was like flowing streams of red above her shoulders, in sharp contrast to her icy blue eyes. Freckles decorated her cheeks and stretched upon her skin every time she showed her teeth with that large smile.

She was the only person in the entire orphanage who got the guts to associate with the infamous “Smart-aleck Matsuda”. His cynical demeanor never seemed to affect her, but getting her drawn to him instead.

She wasn't as shunned as him– every teacher adored her with all their heart and her grades matched to his. She caught the attention of many boys and got all the girls jealous of her unusual charisma and beauty. With those, she had all it took to be the most popular girl. However, for some reason she always chose to bother Matsuda with her peculiarities.

 _“Matsuda-kuuun~! Can you help me solve this problem?”_ she would say with her most sugar-sweet voice as she approached his desk, whenever all he wanted was to finish the current page of his manga. He knew very well that she wasn't about to consider his opinion on the matter, so he never argued.  
  
He showed her how to solve every problem in details, explaining thoroughly every step and made sure to check if she understands, to which she always answered with a nod and a wide grin. Soon, he started to realize she never needed help in the first place, but simply came up with an excuse to be around him.  
  
Enoshima wasn't just exceeding from normalcy, but also unpredictable, and it was driving him mad. She would always come up with some new tricks to stir his attention to her every time; whenever it's snatching the book from his hands or sneaking up on him out of the blue.

And yet, his remarks had never made her cease. Despite that, he’d never thought of arguing with her or trying to get her to scram. It was as if she put him under some kind of spell that made him obey to her.

It was truly irritating how she managed to wrap him around her little finger with ease. He had enough troubles dealing with the annoying staff members, the doctors at the hospital and on top of all, his sick mother. The last thing he needed now was this stupid girl to add more problems to his life.  
  
With that agreed upon, the boy still couldn't help but to be curious. That girl remained an enigma during those three years since he first came, and still couldn't figure her out. One day he finally had courage to ask.

___

_“What do you mean ‘why’?” Enoshima cocked her head aside and joined her lips into a pout that Matsuda could confirm was a hundred percent fake. “Matsuda-kun is my only friend in here after all!” She declared cheerfully smiling from ear to ear at him._

_The boy scowled. “Listen you knucklehead, just because you bother me every day with your nonsense doesn’t make us friends.” He scoffed at her as his eyes returned to the current page of the manga he was reading._

_“Besides, you've got plenty of people flocking around you. How come you think I am your friend?”_

_“Everyone here bores me to death. All the boys try to impress me, and all the girls just gossip about their rivals behind their backs and show off their new clothes or where their relatives take them for vacation.” the girl sighed, leaning her chin into her palms. “And they ask me too, where my family took me to. And I can't just admit that I've never been abroad, y’know? It's too embarrassing.”_

_‘Seriously, is that even a problem?’ the boy mused, trying hard not to let out a sneer._

_“But you're different!” the other seven-years-old continued. “You don't talk to anybody about petty problems or gossip. Even the staff members are creeped out by you!” She said with the same gleeful tone that didn't match her words._

_“You're not boring like the rest. After all, you seem so grumpy all the time that I've never actually thought you'd agree help me with homework or even keep talking with me.”_

_Matsuda let out a frustrated sigh. “Look, if you're trying to mess around with me then get lost. You've got your other friends to toy with.” He then lifted his manga book from his desk, blocking the girl's face from his view._

_“Gosh! You're so mean!” Enoshima whined, throwing her fists like an angry child. Her sudden change of tone caught him off guard, but managed to keep his apathetic composure behind the worn out cover of his booklet, pretending he doesn't listen._

_“all you do is stick your nose in those stupid mangas, aren't you bored of it? Be grateful that I'm the only one who still talks to you, because all the other kids are starting to hate me too.”_

_“And what's so bad about that? You said they bore you.”_

_“It doesn't mean I wanna be treated like an ugly duckling like you!”_

_“That’s not my problem! You're the one who started talking with me in the first place!”_

_“I wouldn't if I knew you're that annoying!”_

_Matsuda let a silent hiss through his teeth. Just a moment ago that dumb girl was praising about him being ‘grumpy and different’, and now she was scolding him for that? It was obvious that the bird-witted girl was trying hard to provoke him, but what was she thinking to accomplish by that?_

_“Just to let you know, you're gonna be stuck here until you're eighteen if no family wants to adopt you. Do you really want to waste your time in here until you'll run out of reading material? Is that it? Do you like the idea of being stuck in this hellhole that much?"_

_The last part of her argument caught his attention, as if Enoshima’s words awoke a certain part of him, a latent emotion or a thought he was trying to repress. She definitely noticed that as well, which brought an almost unnoticeable smile full of triumph onto her lips._

_Slowly, he lowered the book. Now being able to see the girl leaning on his desk perfectly clear. “What do you want from me, Enoshima?”_

_“It may not look like it, but I hate this place…" Enoshima’s voice lowered, a slight hint of sadness was visible on her face as she spoke._ _"And if no family would ever want me, I at least wish to have Matsuda-kun by my side.”_

_Matsuda felt his features subconsciously soften at her, considering that maybe the girl was just as lonely as he was. Even with all the adoration surrounding her, she decided to seek his attention out of all people. It didn't make sense, when she had all their classmates, teachers and the staff members thinking of her so fondly and probably care about her more than they could care about anyone else. It didn't make any sense– But he couldn't argue with the facts._

_Though the question still stood– Why him? Was he really that different?_

_So many questions on his mind, yet he couldn't bring himself to ask any of them. Her antics were probably just her own way to gain his attention, and she didn't seem to have any ill-intentions behind those childish actions._

_The girl leaned forward more, stretching her hand for him._ _"Let's be friends, Matsuda-kun." Eyes gleaming, determined to make him do as her wish, not different than any other times she approached him, yet with a different intention. It didn't sound like mockery, nor a simple joke or tease, but a real, genuine offer to become friends._

_Friend, what an odd word. Something Matsuda never believed he'd hear in regards to him from someone else._

_He hesitated silently, deciding maybe it's best for him to play along for now._

_“Fine then, let's be friends.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... I was thinking... maybe to write a multichapter story that actually engaged in the relationship between Junko and Matsuda.
> 
> So here's a thought of how they first got to know each other for the first time, and things only get more complicated and unpredictable for Matsuda. Tell me what you guys think, should I continue this?
> 
>  
> 
> N.B: Thank you for stopping by and reading!


	2. Match

Befriending Enoshima wasn't necessarily a bad choice. The girl didn't seem to care about the amount of creeped out stares she got from other children whenever they were seen hanging out together.

He kept his habit of stinging her via harsh remarks, but she would just take them very lightly, twisting his words until they'll bite back at him. To other people, it might seem like they were just two children fighting, but that was just their own unique way to communicate, their own language– which was making up countless of insults to throw at each other. And amusingly, it was a very effective method to enrich their vocabulary;

“Scatterbrain.”

“Ratty Brainiac.”

“Ugly Lolli.”

“Jerkface.”

And so they both were finding their slanging matches quite enjoyable. It was sort of reassuring–Matsuda thought– that she was the only person who let herself act so freely around him when she hardly did so with other people. And soon enough, the boy found himself being around her more than he was with his books.

He can't say he wasn't feeling a bit _content_ , but he didn't deny that the red-haired was sometimes very hard to deal with either. She didn't stop being the same girl he first met, full of energy and prone to mood-swings, childish and impulsive. 

He tried taking her to the local library with him to fetch new books from time to time, but she'd always complain how boring the place is. Asking her to suggest to go somewhere else was a decision he couldn't regret more– Enoshima dragged him to the backyard of their school very often. They would rush out of the classroom during breaks to claim the swings before other children would arrive– but of course, that wasn't the real reason for his second thoughts.

It was the way she would take him by the hand to the sandbox and showed him how she build sandcastles.

A strange feeling kicked inside of him whenever the girl joined her hand with his; her pale, rosy fingers gripping his cold one tightly felt oddly warm and reassuring against his skin (It would be a lie if he'd deny that it somehow reminded him how his mother used to hold his hand). Those same fingers were moving skillfully as they sculpted diverse shapes from sand.

He tried mimicking her technique every time, but failed miserably. Frustration made him scowl at how Enoshima’s handmade creation gracefully mocked his failure.

“How do you do that?” He slammed his hand on his pile of sand sending small grains flying around. Enoshima just blowed a small raspberry and shrugged. “I'm just good at it. Just like at everything I do.” The boy thought he missed an arrogant smirk on her face, but was surprised to realize that her expression remained the same as she said it.

“What do you mean 'at everything’?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.” She said back without stuttering, keep focusing on her sandcastle.

“So you're just good at everything? That's nonsense, you can't make everything you do perfect. It takes time to learn and develop skills.” He almost laughed at how ridiculously deep and sophisticated he sounded for his age.

“There are those who need time to learn and improve. But there are those who can get a bullseye without trying too hard– and I'm one of them.”

Matsuda frowned in pure disbelief, somewhat annoyed at the thought that she might be just showing off. Though it made sense that some people are wired differently than others. While some of their classmates couldn't get half of their math problems done right, he could solve most of them with ease. Enoshima was most likely something beyond that– she was good at studies, good with people, and those sculpting techniques she demonstrates look pretty advanced for someone her age. Is that what people call a _child prodigy?_

“Even so, you can't just be good at everything.”

“I can if I want to.” She declared with yet another one of her pride filled grins. “Wanna know what else I can do? I can predict future outcomes!” She exclaimed and pressed both index fingers to her temples with her eyes squinted to his direction, posing like a medium in an attempt to communicate with a spirit.

The boy couldn't stop the snort from escaping his lips “Oh really? Are you some sort of a fortune teller?”

“A fortune teller? Don't be silly! Matsuda-kun, do you seriously think I'm like those frauds?!” Enoshima screeched angrily, before her features soften again.

“Though it kinda works the same way.” Then she brought her index finger to her chin, tapping right below her upper lip as if she was searching for an explanation.  
Matsuda glanced at her expectinaly, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Let’s just say everything I do goes smoothly since I can predict how things would turn out. For example, I know that some choices that I'll make would lead to different outcomes, and I choose depending on how it works better for me."

The boy stayed in silence, puzzled by the statement. His first impulse was to laugh and dismiss everything she said up to this point. However curiosity got better of him.

“So… you're saying that it's like an ‘American Quiz’? You know what to do because you can figure out what is the right choice?”

Enoshima tilted her head slightly “More or less... But that was just an example of how it works." She then looked around, scanning their surroundings side to side, a motion that the boy found too fast and too unnatural.

 _Seriously, he couldn't understand anything she said!_ He was impatient at how Enoshima was wearing him out with those inarticulate explanations. Was she doing that on purpose? Was she trying to provoke him again? Even so, he wouldn't let her win with petty arguments. So he figured, he should just be as straightforward as possible.

“Prove it.”

“Huh?” _Jackpot, he caught her off guard_.

“I said you should prove it. If you really can 'predict the future’ or something like that, show it to me then, right now.”

Enoshima’s lips slowly curved upwards “Very well then!” She clapped her hands together eagerly. Matsuda yelped loudly when he felt his arm being yanked, his body lifted completely off the ground. Enoshima started sprinting out of the playground with him fidgeting erratically behind her, trying his best to keep up with her pace.

“Did you see how empty the playground was?” came her question as her head turned to him, determination and eagerness dancing in her eyes, lidded by her red tresses. The sight was so distracting that he almost forgot to answer.

“W-wha? I didn't look around!” He said loudly between each blunt tread. Looking back, his conversation with her took place during the break when the sound of kids shouting and chatting should be heard in the background. But today, it was surprisingly silent. How didn't he notice that?

“Well I did! And I think I might know where everyone else are right now!” she said pointing her finger forward, and Matsuda could see that they were heading towards the basketball court.

As they approached, Enoshima's assumption was proved to be correct as he heard the sound of frantic children's applauding and cheering. The noise came from fellow orphans from various of ages– probably from six to twelve– gathering around in a circle around what he could presume was a brawl. They had plenty of those at least once or twice, usually among children of the older age groups, but there were times when children in second or even first grade were involved.

Matsuda had never been caught up in those nor had he ever went down from the building to see. All his knowledge about the fights came from spreading rumors or conversations held by his fellow classmates.

What was truly strange is how Enoshima guessed that everyone would be gathered at the court? The two of them were spending their breaks at the playground without a care in the world. But he dismissed it since, sure, seeing the playground was surprisingly empty during a break would've lead her to that conclusion. It was a pure coincidence, nothing more.

Their vision was blocked by the crowd, so he helped Enoshima push through the taller kids in order to reach the front line.

There were two kids standing in the empty circle– A quite tall, buff and monstrous-built preteen boy. As for his opponent, standing in the right corner was a tiny girl, probably around their age. Matsuda's jaw dropped, he couldn't imagine how such a small girl could think that she could overcome someone who was twice her size and three times her age. He looked to his side at Enoshima (who seemed so unnaturally calm).

“You dragged me all the way to watch them fight?”

“You wanted a proof, right? So this is the perfect time and place!”

Matsuda huffed and looked more closely at the two individuals. The tall boy seemed just as violent as he looked, with a couple of furious, vicious brown eyes and sweaty, thick arms raised right above his waist ready to throw a massive hit.

As for the girl, she was like a thin stick in a layer of a pale, cherry-tint skin. She had smooth charcoal-black hair, her bobbed bangs almost concealing her stony pair of blue eyes. The sound of uproar from the ellipse of excited children didn't seem to affect her, she was standing with legs crouched, ready to face the menace standing in before her.

“Do you see that girl?” Enoshima's voice stirred him away from his thoughts.

“Yeah, what about her?”

“You do know her, right?”

“Ehh.. No?”

“What?! Where has your head been all this time? Matsuda-kun, you really do read way too much manga!”

Matsuda winced, but chose wisely to ignore her remark. “Who is she then?”

“That’s Ikusaba Mukuro, and I say she's going to win.” Enoshima said, her discreet voice filled with full confidence.

Matsuda raised a brow questionably at her.“How? She's just skin and bones, did you even see that guy? There's no way she'll get out in one piece!”

“It’s a bet then, except I’m gonna prove it to you. And if I'm right and she's gonna beat that bully, you'll believe me, right?” she gazed at him, practically pleading for his approval.

“Okay, fine..” Matsuda reluctantly agreed, but had to admit that he was getting more and more intrigued. Wondering how could Enoshima be so sure that ‘Ikusaba’ was going to defeat such a strong opponent.

It started with the older boy lunging towards the little girl. Matsuda couldn't imagine any positive outcome despite Enoshima's words. The urge to deflect his head aside, to avoid witnessing the incoming impact came through.

“He’s gonna miss.” Enoshima's voice emerged again.

And so, Ikusaba leaped aside effortlessly right at the last minute. The boy yelped as he almost tackled into the line of second graders. He spotted Ikusaba again not too far next to him, raising his bulky arm as he took off again.

“Whoops, here goes nothing. I pity that girl though.” Matsuda felt Enoshima's smug, his heart skipped a beat when the boy missed Ikusaba again only to accidently lay a hit on a bysider female third-grader, who was now busy wailing loudly to gain the attention of everyone around her. But both fighters couldn't care any less and kept going

Could it be… that Enoshima actually _knew_ what was going to happen? Was it even possible?

No, It couldn't be. It was inevitable; the boy was charging in an alarming speed so carelessly– someone was bound to get hurt. Enoshima was probably way more sharp with her attention to the small details, so it's not like she could actually _predict_ it.

The occurrence repeated. The boy started getting impatient and jerky with his movements, sweating and groaning in frustration. Ikusaba however, seemed calm and collected, the dodging session didn't seem to exhaust her at all for someone her size. As he watched the girl evading her rival’s attacks, Matsuda felt somewhat bored due to the lack of real violence. His beliefs of Ikusaba's low chances to fight back grew as he heard the crowd of children booing at young girl and encouraging the boy to finally lay a punch.

“She's just wearing him off, don't worry, soon she'll go riot.” his friend reassured, as if already figured out his thoughts.

Matsuda felt himself getting tensed the more he watched the 'fight’. The preteen heavy breathing was getting more heavy and hoarse as he swayed around, he roared at the younger girl and sprang forward with sudden speed and fierce, fists clenched and raised above his head– determined to catch his opponent this time.

Everything suddenly seemed so slow. Matsuda was expecting the boy to finally land a heavy blow on Ikusaba, who didn't bother move an inch.

“That boy surely is stupid, exhausting himself will only give her a chance to strike.” Enoshima scoffed.

And for the second time today, Matsuda got caught off guard to witness the exact thing happening.

The boy got worn out midway and slowed down to catch his breath, it was enough time for Ikusaba to move aside swiftly, raise her leg and give him a hard, firm kick to his abdomen. The older boy gasped, face twisting in agony seconds before he met the concrete ground with a loud thud

There was a short moment of shocked silence among the raging crowd, before they let out loud shrieks when the boy tried to get up. Ikusaba was pinning him to the ground mercilessly, and he was squirming and struggling underneath her tiny frame. For someone that small, she sure was _very_ _strong_. Matsuda stared with awe, but then he noticed how she carelessly left one of the boy's arms free from her grasp.

“That’s it, she's gonna twist his arm~!” Enoshima rejoiced as if she just hit a jackpot. Which she did, the boy raised his hand in attempt to grab Ikusaba by the hair. However she seemed to already it figure it out, blocking his attack by taking a tight grip of his arm. The boy let out a ear-tearing holler as the girl's tiny hands bended his arm with enough force for Matsuda to be able to hear the jarring cracking sound of breaking bones.

Matsuda lost control of his facial features, heart racing while watching Ikusaba literally _mowing_ the older boy's face. Another punch, another cuff, another strike and so it continues as Enoshima predicts every single one. He grew more and more shocked with each correct prediction; the boy's face was getting covered with more bruises and lesions, bleeding nose and scratches.

Ikusaba was unusually unreactive that it was starting to become so disturbing to watch. Her expression was painted with pure apathy– cold eyes and mouth pressed into a firm line, merely focused on finishing her rival off until there’s nothing left, while being accompanied by the encouraging, thrilled and eager roars and cheers. She showed no sign of triumph or glee, her face stayed the same, clean and unscathed as before.

“What's going on here?!”

A loud, castigating voice of an adult cut through the cheering and screaming, the moment they noticed a teacher approaching the area, every remnant of excitement turned into perfect silence. The unlucky children who were blocking her path got pushed aside roughly, she stepped furiously into the area and halted when her eyes laid on Ikusaba towering upon the sniffling older boy in a mess of tears, blood and snot.

“You again?! What did you do this time?!” The teacher furious gaze turned to both children, but it soon became clear that she was looking at Ikusaba, whose expression never changed– even as the woman was pushing her away from her path to help the wounded boy stand, which was laughable considering how crude he looked when trying to stand. Even after she gave her a fast swat across her face, soon followed by another one to the other cheek in a merciless interval– the young girl's face never changed as the teacher degraded her in front of her classmates, and never opened her mouth to protest while hearing enthusiastic whistles.

“The break is already over! All of you, go back to your classes immediately! _Go go go!”_  

The circle fell apart as everyone began to flee back into the building hearing the woman's spur on. “And don't think we'll let this pass in silence!” Everyone probably knew better than to believe her, but did as she said regardless.

“C’mon Matsuda-kun.” Enoshima's voice emerged in a whisper as she took his hand and both began doing the same. Matsuda managed to catch a glimpse of the teacher tugging the defeated preteen by her one hand, and forcibly dragging Ikusaba by the other one. And in a blink of the eye, he could swear he saw Ikusaba's hand slipping something carefully in her dress pocket when the adult woman wasn't looking.

They roamed in the hallway with hands joined, during which Matsuda couldn't get rid of the mess in his head in consideration of what just happened. It was not that he felt sorry for that guy, but if watching the seven-year-old child overcome the brute without emotion in her eyes wasn't enough, listening to how Enoshima managed to guess every action the two children made during the fight made him more overwhelmed, if not scared.

“H-hey Enoshima… This is... just nuts.” He wheezed. “How did you.. I mean… How does this even work? Why did you know what would any of them do… before they actually did it?” His hand reached to grab his temple tightly, his head pounding in each attempt to find a logical explanation to everything, but the more he tried thinking rationally the more his head hurt.

“I told you, I can predict it.” she replied nonchalantly. An answer that he found far from satisfying.

“But… But you… how?! How could you actually know exactly what's gonna happen? It doesn't make sense!”

“But that's exactly what it means to predict. I can guess what people would do before they do it, and that's how I know how things will turn out.”

Matsuda was having too much trouble to comprehend “You didn't answer my question, I asked you ' _how_ ’.”

“I just look at the people around me; their look, their behaviour, their expressions, the way they talk– all of it says plenty about them. The more I see, the better I predict.” She elaborated, gaze sharp and tone solemn.

Matsuda heeded, and suddenly the penny dropped “You mean… you analyze them.”

“What's that?”

“‘Analyze’, it means you study something in detail, so you can know how it works.” Well, that was just a poor, informal and very simple way of explaining it, unlike the way it written down in the dictionary. He couldn't think of another way to describe what his friend explained, he should be thankful for the handful amount of books he reads otherwise he would be losing his mind dealing with the situation.

“Wow, Matsuda-kun. I'm impressed! You're really are a brainiac! Not stupid like other kids.” The girl praised. “Though 'analyzing’ sounds just so nerdy and weird, even for someone like me, right?”

“More like scary…” the words rolled subconsciously on Matsuda’s tongue. He was dumbfounded by the new, unsettling revelation of the eccentric person he now called his friend. Worry curled up in his stomach at the realization he'd just spoken out loud, but Enoshima didn't seem to mind.

“You do believe me now, right?” The red-haired questioned him once more.

“I guess… I am...” He was stammering out, unsure.

“You understand I'm not bluffing? I know it seems so unreal but you're the only one who can understand. Oh and… I've never actually told about this to anyone, so can I trust you you'll keep this a secret? Please?” Enoshima begged as she folded her hands together, her blue eyes wide and pleading.

“Jeez, alright you twerp! There's no reason for me to tell anybody, okay? Just stop making that ugly face.”

“Hey! There's nothing wrong with my face! I'm adorable.”

“I dunno, you look like a poor stray dog to me.”

“Well, at least I'm an adorable stray dog!”

“No, you're not.”

“Yes I am!” the usual puerility returned to her face as she she nudged her elbow at him, making him groan and return the gesture. They were back to exchanging scathing words, like they always do.

But he realized by now, to a full extent, that Enoshima Junko wasn't an ordinary girl (and neither does the Ikusaba girl apparently).

That strange talent Enoshima had, he couldn't even understand if it was real or just a simple trick the red-haired played to scare him off. But overall, it was eerie, and maybe as some people could deduce– _disturbing_.

* * *

 

In their small, barely illuminated room, Junko and Mukuro were carefully taking off the rickety floorboards where their loot of bills, coins and other valuables were kept hidden, crumpled and covered with a mild amount dust and dirt, but still remained in a good condition to be used in the future.

“You were right, Junko-chan. That boy does carry lots of it.” Mukuro said, holding the bills she nickeled after drawing them from her pocket.

“Of course I was right! His relatives are loaded, I saw them handing him tons of pocket money during their visits.” Junko explained with a prideful smile. “This guy uses it to bribe the kids he torments to keep their mouth shut. It was too easy.” She laughed and snatched the money out of Mukuro's swollen hands, shoving it into the gap under the floor.

Mukuro fumbled with the hem of her partly-torned jeans skirt, biting on her lips as she stared at her younger twin putting back the floorboard, vanishing their bounty from sight.

“Hey Junko-chan… did I do well today?”

Junko stared back at her sister's eyes. They are the same colour as hers, icy blue orbs that turned stony and bleak whenever she was beating the crap out of someone, or whenever she was looking at someone else other than her twin. Mukuro was truly a hopeless older sister, only good for being told what to do.

Mukuro had already asked that question so many times that it was becoming so irritating. But then again, you need to throw your dog a bone for doing well once in awhile, right?

“Yeah yeah, you did well sis. You always do.” the younger twin said dismissively, not trying very hard to sound appreciative. But it seemed to be just enough effort to bring her older twin to beam.

“Really? You think so?”

“Well, it was so obvious that you'll win that it wasn't even fun to watch that snotty idiot cry. But too bad you didn't see Matsuda-kun's face! That was the real deal!”

Mukuro raised her brow questionably as she heard the name 'Matsuda’ being mentioned. “Matsuda? You mean the guy who reads books in class?”

Junko hummed in agreement and laid on the bed, which followed by Mukuro getting up and sitting on the mattress next to her.

“Did he see everything?” The older twin’s expression changed into something that resembled worry and doubt.

“Yeah, I brought him to watch. Why, is that a problem?” Junko asked back and sent her sister a piercing glare that caused her to flinch.

“Aren't you hanging too much around that guy?”

“It's fiiiine!” Junko whined, stretching her arms. “He’s not like everyone else. In fact,he's quite fun guy to hang around.” she determined, clenching her hands into fists.

“He might try something funny if he'd find out too much…” Mukuro went on, pressing a finger to her lips with back crunched. Did she really think Junko wouldn't notice her attempt to get around the issue? It was plain obvious Mukuro didn't trust Matsuda, she didn't trust _anyone_ for that matter. But since she was so afraid anything she'd say might cross Junko, she pathetically tries to sound casual when pressing on serious topics.

“Do you really think I've told him? He knows nothing, and even if he would, like he'd actually tell someone. I know him and I know he wouldn't snitch.” It was half a lie, she knew Matsuda, she couldn't be _that_ sure he wouldn't do anything, her friend was never predictable in the first place– because if he was, she wouldn't have befriended him to begin with. But now, she entrusted one of her biggest secrets with him, she sure had no problems to put some full trust in the boy.

"I was just making sure... for safety's sake... I'm sorry if-”

“Oh, you should be sorry! Matsuda-kun is the only one who keeps me company while you do your 'thing’. What did you think I was gonna do meanwhile? stare at the wall?”

“I didn't mean to! I can tone it down if you feel this way. I'll make it up to you, Junko-chan, I promise! We can go outside at night again, or I can teach you how to throw knives–”

“Spare me, sis. I have Matsuda-kun now, so I don't need you to play it like a ‘caring big sister’ to make up for not spending time with me like before. Just keep doing what you do best.” Junko scorned, but deeply satisfied with the guilt and shame on Mukuro's face. She should feel guilty, for being such a worrywart, for not trusting Junko's decisions.

Looking back at her sister's hands, it seemed that she wasn't getting her black and blue knuckles treated, it was her punishment for all the fights she got herself involved. One thing for sure, that guy won’t dare to mess with any of them again after what happened today. That's how they work, Mukuro is the muscle and Junko is the brain. Stealing and hiding their loot, making trouble while Mukuro was willing to take punishments while Junko plans in advance. The thought of the two of them being a couple of unbridled, feral children who have nothing to lose was always _so thrilling_ in her opinion.

A couple that could use a helping hand.

Matsuda Yasuke– her new friend– wasn't very different from her. The moment the sharp-tongued brainiac’s eyes lit up with a sparkle of curiosity when she reminded him of being stuck in this prison, she knew they are on the same boat.

At first, she thought about selling his mangas for some extra money. After all, the boy was such an outcast that it wouldn't be so hard to steal from him and get away with it. But as she thought things were going the way she planned, she saw something in him that changed her mind.

He was distanted, that is true, but he wasn't gullible. He had that hollow emptiness behind his eyes that reminded her of herself– which he was hiding by a mask of sarcasm and bitterness to keep everyone away.

Wouldn't it be a good idea to do him a small favor? So what if Mukuro warns her about not telling a soul? Matsuda was trustworthy, she could feel it, and going with her feelings would be better than relying on her logic, it would a nice change for once. Sure, the possibility of being backstabbed by him was supposed to raise a black flag– but no one can know whenever they'd be betrayed. And the possibility being betrayed by her only friend was something she was truly afraid of.

But willing to put faith in another human-being, blindly following her emotions over her brain, even if there was a huge risk she might lose everything she and her twin built. It was raising the stakes in one hopeless, irrational gamble.

A gamble that she was more than delighted to take.

 


	3. Forget-me-not

_Matsuda wasn't a flower expert, even though he had a flower-loving woman for a parent and a dainty garden she loved so dearly just a few feet from his house. As a child he used to wander around the patches of colorful petals while his mother explained about every flower and their significance._

_Then he saw a patch of grass contained a field of tiny, delicate-looking flowers, their petals radiates in a neat shade of pale-blue. The flower called “Myosotis”— a flower meant for undying love and remembrance— was the flower that matched his mother's eyes._

_He was only four-years-old when his mother had just got hospitalized. Dr. Kimura— his mother's assigned physician— diagnosed her with Alzheimer's disease. But after a long session of checkups it had been determined his mother's illness was no regular Alzheimer. Matsuda Hisako had a severe case of loss of long term memory, to the point of irreversibility. His mother had no memories of her past life, her family or about her son. Her brain damage occurred shortly before her hospitalization and resulted from the advanced stage of her illness— and everything turned her into another person entirely._

_At some point of the treatment, the boy was told not to address her as his mother, as well as forbidden from mentioning anything regarding their relation._

_At first, the boy thought he misheard. It never occurred to him up until the very moment the realization finally sank in– that he wasn't allowed to call her his mother anymore. It was absurd, how else was he supposed to confront his only parent who constantly forgets him without being able to remind her of the only thing left of their relationship? It was the fact that she was his mother that kept him from giving up hope, and these vile, fake people took that away from him._

_Matsuda wanted to at least take his mother to the garden again, even if it was for one last time. But the doctors would never let him take her outside, since she gives her caregivers vertigo with her tendency to wander around in late hours and her constant attempts to run away._

_He got himself in grave trouble the next time he went to the garden all by himself, but in the end he managed to come visit her, holding out a gathering of Myosotis flowers he picked from the garden , believing from the very remains of hope and naivety left in him it could remind her of their long forgotten memories of walking hand-in-hand looking at the baby-blue flowers together. And ever since it was left aside, contained in the pot one the windowsill, to wilt and wither for a long period of four years._

Now there he was once again wandering in his old neighborhood, he could swear he remembered it having a plant nursery located somewhere. After asking some passerby to give him the correct location, he was lucky enough to stumble across the large place by noon and come out with a small, personally bought pot filled with the familiar blue flowers.

Carrying it around in his grasp felt nightmarish; but as determined as he was to keep it safe, it was a miracle that he managed to keep the pot intact in his lap, despite all the sudden movements and overwhelming crowding in the bus throughout the ride.

* * *

 The hospital wasn't practically considered a large establishment in everyday, but for Matsuda it always looked so tremendous. Its walls were looming above him like ancient castle towers, painted in deathly-pale shade of white and ivory so blinding.

The corridors spread far and wide, and whenever he passed through in little strides, the more it seemed like they'd never end. Patients were seen roaming outside their rooms connected to innumerable tubes and infusions, some of them were carried around on wheelchairs by the nurses, and some laid immobile on stretchers to undergo a life-threatening operation. The familiar smell of a pungent mixture of chemicals accompanied his nostrils, filling him with morbid nausea. He hated to think he was just passing by where every door leads to countless of rooms with people on the verge of death or just hopelessness— which was fate worse than death itself.

On the corner of his eyes he could see how some people were staring at him as he was making his way with ease in the hallways, whispering familiar words full of pity;

_“Why is this boy here all by himself?”_

_“I heard his parent is hospitalized here.”_

_“Oh, poor thing! I can't imagine how troublesome it is…”_

Matsuda was doing his very best to ignore them, increasing his pace more until the sound of his hulking footsteps provided a distraction from the voices around him. It had always been a struggle, he could never walk through these hallways unnoticed, because apparently for a child like him to be so well-orientated in the hospital was considered very unfortunate.

In the past years he thought he'd already gotten used to it, but here he was to prove himself that he was wrong yet again. Enoshima surely would've had something silly or inept to say which could provide him some stress relief. But as much as he’d be glad to, he couldn't bring himself to tell Enoshima where he was going.

When they talked this morning, Matsuda wasn't in his best mood. He had to decline his friend’s offer to hang out, which made her pout in disappointment. When he was about to tell her why, he hesitated—for way too long, he believed. He just couldn't tell anybody, not even Enoshima—about his mother.

So he lied to her, he said he was going to a book store outside of town and she probably wouldn't be interested in coming with him.

He thought that maybe, just for once, Enoshima wouldn't notice. But most likely she could read his foul mood, and spot the lie from miles away. The girl wasn't stupid, after all.

Regardless, she didn't say a word to protest. She was surprisingly yielding, unlike her usual stubborn spirit. Matsuda's first feeling was guilt, then it slowly turned into worry.

Nothing about their relationship had changed much since that “incident”. They kept hanging out as usual, they talked and he let her tease him with mordant remarks and he would do the same in return, but he could feel something was off below the surface.

Ever since Enoshima “demonstrated” her strange… ability to predict outcomes she left him heavily affected. It sounded way too absurd anyone could read their surroundings so thoroughly with such ease and speed to the point of predicting them so well, it wasn't natural, it was way beyond human capabilities; and Matsuda wasn't superstition in any way— He'd never believed in anything he couldn't understand. And yet, he was finding it hard not to be wary of her; because there was this _unnerving_ thought of Enoshima being able to read him and interpret every shift of his facial features and tone of voice in the back of his mind.

Whenever he felt her gaze ghosting upon him, it felt like an invasive test was being performed on him. And by the end of it, he knew her scrutiny could never lead her to a wrong conclusion.

Thinking back, maybe he shouldn't have lied to her.

* * *

 

“Hello Yasuke-kun, did you find the place easily?”

“Yes, Kimura-sensei.” Matsuda replied politely, trying to conceal his pure disdain for the physician. Dr. Kimura smiled ever-so-kindly at him, and Matsuda couldn't be anymore annoyed.

The neurology department seemed so quiet and peaceful compared to the rest of the hospital wing; its rooms were very wide-spaced and filled with enormous amount of computer stands and unrecognizable devices, he could spot the large MRI scanners in the nearby room.

“How is she?” Matsuda questioned short and sweet, breaking the silence accompanying them as they walked.

“Your mother had recently been through a new medical course, before that I'm afraid she didn't go through a drastic progress…” Dr. Kimura explained while never looking into his eyes, not until he continued with a “but—” which caught the boy's attention, as if he was actually expecting good news.

“— there's an improvement, she can do daily activities better than before. I believe that with some more effort and hope, she has better chances for recovery.” he'd gone back speaking to him like a child again, he looking down into his eyes with that forced smile.

He hated being treated like a child, because he was smarter than any average kid, and he deserved to know. He'd done his research of her illness before, and he knew how to recognize the symptoms in his mother's behavioural patterns. By that, he thought that could at least understand his mother better, but it didn't make everything easier for him during her episodes.The more he tried, the more he lost hope that she'll ever recover.

Everyone was trying so hard pretend even after almost four years of having his mother under medical treatment without any improvement whatsoever, funny how they still believed they were fooling him with that optimistic facade.

“Does this mean she’ll finally recognize me?”

Kimura’s smile eased and slowly drifted. “I can't make promises, you should still avoid from addressing her until we'll be sure the surgery beared its fruits.”

Matsuda wore a steely glare a moment too late when the physician wasn't looking at him anymore. It seemed that both of them had different goals the whole time. All the doctors seemed to care about is his mother's recovery, while all he wished for was for her to recognize him again.

Before he knew it, they finally reached the room. Dr. Kimura bent a little to meet his gaze. “So, are you ready to see your mom?”

What kind of question is that? Of course not. Even after so long he could never truly prepare himself to see her. The only thing left for him to do was go in and pray for the best. Matsuda had never answered his question, but simply nodded obediently and followed suit.

When they finally arrived, the nurse came outside to greet them, looking endearingly at the young boy. “Oh, you brought her flowers! How sweet of you, dearie.” She said in a high-pitched voice, threatening to break midway. She reached down to take the flowers from him, however he flinched before she could.

“I'd like to give those to her personally.” He said, unaffected by the put off expression he earned from the woman—and in fact, he wasn't very ashamed about the unexpected satisfaction it brought him.

“Matsuda-san, you have a visitor!” the nurse called as Kimura walked into the room, with the boy right beside him. The two settled by the cot where his mother was sitting, slumped against the wall like a marionette with its strings trimmed. The woman didn't bother to turn her head aside, she didn't look like she was even willing to reply at all.

The nurse cleared her throat “Excuse me Matsuda-san. Someone’s here to see you.”

“Huh…?” his mother's voice came out raspy and tired, she finally made some effort to look at them.

The son took a proper look at his mother, and his conclusion was that she didn't look well at all. Matsuda Hisako was as pale as the walls of the room, with dark circles under her tired, pale-blue eyes. Her disheveled black hair looked so dry, loosely tied up in a ponytail, and her hospital gown was hanging languidly around her lean frame. She looked so fragile and frail– that even the smallest touch could break her apart.

Matsuda didn't say a word, he simply waited until she’d finally noticed him. He swallowed, studying the incoherent look on her face when her eyes met his. “Um…” he stammered put unintentionally. “These are for you.” He held out the flowers to her. However she just kept staring at the tribute, then back at him.

“Who is this brat?” she spat, cold and demanding. Her reaction pierced through like a knife, even though it happened so many times before, it always hurt. Luckily, Kimura did him the favor and interfered, sparing him the effort to reply to her insult.

“Matsuda-san, please be polite. That boy visits you once a month every year. Can't you recognize him?” It almost sounded more like a simple request rather than a question. The mother hardly seemed moved by his tone, she simply kept her gaze fixed at her son with an unreadable expression for a while, during which the boy thought he might explode on the spot from the suspense.

“I don't remember him” she replied shortly, indifference written all over her.

The nurse came and mumbled incomprehensible words to Dr. Kimura, who nodded in understanding.  He let out a faint “Excuse us” to the nurse before taking the boy to speak privately at the corner of the room.  
  
“There seems to be an emergency we need to attend to, so I'm afraid we have to leave you two alone for now. Can you handle it?”  
  
Matsuda swallowed a lump forming in his throat, getting rid of the doctor's presence was tempting on its own. However he wasn't sure if he could actually handle his immobile, emotionally unstable mother all by himself. The nurse usually stayed with them in the room just to make sure  to sustain his mother's behaviour at need. But the sudden opportunity of privacy was something he wanted to have for a very long time.  
  
“That's okay, I can.” He approved, managing to sound confident despite his clear doubts.  
  
“Alright then, Remember to be patient with her, the medicines might have side-effects on her behaviour. In case something  goes wrong, you can use the nurse call button near the cot, someone would come for you.” The physician briefed, giving the boy a faint tap on his shoulder and wished him luck, before he and the nurse turned to leave the room.  
  
There he was, alone with his mother in the same room. After a few minutes during which neither of them spoke a word, he began to regret his decision. His mother didn't seem interested in the slightest in the boy in front of her. She made no effort to speak or look at him whatsoever. It seemed that she had decided to ignore his presence completely. It was not supposed to be hard to start a conversation, but somehow he found himself unable to speak.  
  
“Cat got your tongue?” His mother's voice almost made him jump in his seat. She was looking at him so intently, as if she suddenly decided his keeping quiet was too much of a bother.  
  
“You still don't recognize me?” His voice was shaking. It was the most stupid question he could come up with yet.  
  
“You should already know that I can't. Don't you?”  
  
With lips pursed, he made a faint nod.  
  
“Are they treating you well?” At least that was the most sensible way to start a banal, normal and simple conversation. He read that dementia and Alzheimer's patients needed to be asked simple questions, like those of yes or no, those that doesn't stimulate confusion and required long answers.  
  
“They keep hiding things from me…” The mother murmured shakingly, gripping the sheets tightly until her knuckles turned even whiter than they were before. “I don't know why I'm here anymore… I don't remember anything, not how I got here, not these people, and now you...” She trailed off and the boy heard her teeth clatter and jaw clench, showing her cheekbones pressing on the sides of her face. His thoughts raced the more the woman was lost in her ramblings, his hand subconsciously moved to hold hers reassuringly to avoid the oncoming panic episode. He could feel how thin and dry her bony fingers felt as they trembled under his. he tried to tighten his grip gently and slowly to keep her from panicking.  
  
He expected her to flinch or shove his hand away abruptly, but instead she looked at him with a surprised expression, her muttering died down. _Was it working?_  
  
“You… you should know I don't remember anything.” She repeated. “You're just a kid, why do you keep coming here to see me?”  
  
“I…” he started. “I'm worried about you.” He replied honestly, at least it was easy to tell himself that.  
  
“You're worried?” She repeated his words, a hint of annoyance clear in her tone. “Is worry brings you here? Or is that something else perhaps? There's no way for a kid like you to come here every month to see me just because of ‘worry’.”  
  
Matsuda grimaced, due to the fact they were no far from the truth. ‘Worry’ was hardly a word to describe what he truly felt. It was more likely of an 'obligation’, something that just became a part of his daily routine. But he wouldn't be stupid enough admit any of that to her.  
  
“I’m serious. I care about you… I want you to recover. It must be lonely here all by yourself, isn't it? So I came to spend time with you.”  
  
The mother's eyes went wide for a moment, then thrown her head backwards and let out a bitter chuckle. “Oh, I see. Then I'll make sure to entertain you while you're here. We wouldn't want to let this time together to to waste.”  
  
Matsuda felt a stone being slightly lifted above his heart, at least today she was more patient with him and less ornery like she was previously. He felt that maybe, there was a tiny, small chance that things could turn out better than before.

His mother was at last aware of the blue flowers. Intrigued, she held the pot close to her chest with her one hand as if her whole life depended on it, doesn’t seem to mind the mild grains of soils getting under her nails in the process. She took a long sniff and began gingerly fumbling the petals between her fingertips. Even without saying a word, the boy could read the felicity written all over her.

Matsuda watched her closely, turns out his gift wasn't in vain after all. His mother looked so vivid and calm for the first time in forever. That isn’t to say he'd never brought her anything. He gave her some books before, since doctors said reading could help improve her ability to memorize details. God knows where are those books ended up since then, or if she’d ever read them at all.

“Do you… like the flowers?”

Hisako gave a soft nod, continuing to savour the sight of blossoming cluster. It was enough for him to understand her way of showing gratitude. With a small boost of confidence, Matsuda mustered enough courage to discuss it with her. “You told me a lot about flowers before… you told me every flower has a different meaning.”

“Have I?” she raised her brow questionably at him, her attention no longer directed to the flower pot in her hands. Matsuda took a moment to savour the sight of her along with the interwoven flowers with the color that matched her now glazed eyes. The slight widening of her pupils was a cue of a realization hitting her. “I really love flowers…” she murmured. “Tell me more about them...”

He gladly complied, spilling all his spoon-fed, minimalized knowledge about it; he told her that Sakura meant chastity, Camellia meant admiration, Hibiscus meant gentleness and about some more flowers he couldn’t remember their significance but were remembered for being strikingly beautiful. Hisako hummed contently, eyes sparkling with inquisitiveness.

“Wait, I know… these flowers…” her already faint voice trailed off into a silent hitch. “These blue flowers… no, not just them. A lot of them…”  she murmured incomprehensibly to herself, Matsuda's ears perked in response and inched closer in his seat, trying to catch her following words more properly. “What is it?” He asked hesitantly.

“I remember a flower garden…” her voice became more clear, looking back at the dumbfounded boy, her eyes went so wide and bright, threatening to swallow him whole. “And you were there... with me.”

Matsuda felt his heartbeat growing repeatedly louder in his ears, bewildered by the fact his mother was finally able to recall the details from her past. There was hope, there was something to cling on. But he had to remain calm and patient, remembering the doctor's words. He'd decided to pry there slowly, he couldn't force too much information on her all at once.

“Do you remember anything else?”

Hisako swallowed, almost choking on her own saliva. The boy hurried to hold her hand again and give it a soft squeeze of reassurance, until sudden sounds of foreign mumblings, coming from the outside stirred his attention to the door.

At the corner of his eyes, he spotted a silhouette from the other side of the exit door, standing outside of the translucent glass. _What the hell? Did someone from the outside was peeking in?_

He blinked and looked again, but to his surprise, the silhouette disappeared from sight. Odd, he could swear he didn't hallucinated it just now, did he?

Meanwhile, Hisako started to grab a generous amount of strands of her hair in her fist as she strained her mind, and she looked like she was in agony.

“S-stop that, You'll hurt yourself!” Called Matsuda reached out immediately, trying to pry her fist open and free her plucked locks.

“Just calm down, you can do it… I believe in you. You can remember everything if you'll try hard enough.”

“N-no! I can't! Nothing makes sense anymore!” she yelled frantically. “My head is bursting everytime I try!”  the pot fell from her hands, the soil spilled out of it along with Myosotis stems now scattered onto the sheets, however the boy didn't hurry up to clean the mess of dirt and petals. Right now, he had to focus on trying to get his mother back in reality. He struggled to get through her pained gasps, however she wasn't about to cease.

He regretted everything now, he was probably pushing her off her limits.

“Who even are you?! To order me to do such thing?!” She demanded again, she was already able to forget the conversation that just occured between them a few seconds ago. And he would've gladly answer her, but the doctor's words sank in long ago, they were imposing a taboo.

“I… The doctor said I can't tell you everything. I'm sorry.” he replied honestly.  
  
“Oh, I get it…” his mother let out a choked laugh, there was no humour in it. “You work with them too, huh? Nobody here is going to tell me the truth. Say, are you sure I wasn't kidnapped?” she smiled bitterly at him, and he couldn't do anything but bite his tongue. His hand was so close from pushing the nurse-call button, however it clenched away in hesitation. He didn't want anyone to know about their conversation, he didn't want the nurse or Kimura to be able to see how helpless and small he was feeling right now.

His long hesitation was a mistake, her hand reached towards him and tugged the fabric of his shirt tightly, a rough tug sent him stumbling forward to look right into her cold, empty orbs devoid of sanity.  
  
“You think I'm crazy, you think that I lost my mind. Everyone here does think so too.”  Matsuda stood there held under her firm grip, utterly helpless and wordless.  
_You’re so frustrating, shut up already and let go, you crazy wench_ ! He resented in his mind. There was no way out of this, he finally realized, there's was no way to reason with her now. He tried wiggling softly to set himself out of her grip, but there was no need to struggle why further as the woman abruptly pushed him further away from her cot with sudden amplitude. He almost fell, his blood still thrumming furiously in his veins and breath hitched.

He heard the door swing open, the nurse came back rushing in. She probably heard his mother yelling.

“Matsuda-san! Calm down please!” she called trying to restrain the raging mother, but the latter ignored her and continued verbally flogging the young boy.

“You just feel sorry for me, that's why you're here! If do, then you're wasting your time, go home–”  
  
“No, I can't go home.” he cut her off, his voice went sharp and dangerously low. “I don't have one anymore, because of you and you're stupid illness!” he blurted out, and it took him full three seconds to register that he’d just yelled on top of his lungs.

His mother fell silent, but the nurse continued to calm things down. “Yasuke-kun, I know how you feel, but please don't—”

“Stay out of it.” He cut her off abruptly, making the poor nurse pipe down with a small frightened squeak, before his glare narrowed back to his mother; who remained paralyzed in her posture.

“You’ve changed...You became a burden for all the people who ever relied on you. I kept coming here for years, hoping that you'll remember something, anything, and I got nothing from you but insults and hits! You’re not even trying to do anything about it. You only pity yourself and choose to throw your frustrations at everyone around you. Do you even care about how I feel? Do you really think I can just  _forget_  about all the things you've done to me?! You may have this luxury to forget, but _I_ don't!” At that moment he couldn't think straight, he just didn't seem to care about anything anymore. All the insurmountable anger and bitter emotions he had accumulated during his life burst out of him like a storm. It served her right, she brought it on herself.

It felt si liberating to let everything out—all the anger and frustration burst outside of him and slammed the walls like a splintering ricochet. At the moment he was back to his senses, this feeling of relief was replaced by shock. He still had trouble to register that it was him who yelled these words full of venom at his sick mother.

“Y-Yasuke-kun…” the nurse mumbled, trying to muster her strength again to form sentences. But Matsuda didn't wait for her to do so, instead he turned tail and stormed out of the room, not bothering to pay any mind for the sprawled pot of Forget-me-nots in his mother's lap.

Matsuda knew himself— he knew better than fighting in battles he couldn't win, he knew better than blurting everything on his mind without thinking. And now everything he was keeping for himself gushed out of his mouth so effortlessly like he'd planned doing so for years.

Tip toeing on eggshells around his mentally impaired mother was more exhausting than wearing that icy mask of the unfriendly kid in class. It felt so good to finally unload the emotional baggage everyone in his life made him endure. He came to face the shameful conclusion that he hoped his words _hurt_ her, but even if they did, she'd eventually forget everything he said, right? _Then... why should he feel bad about what he said?_ Their relationship was already broken, and it would always remain this way. No effort from his side was enough to ever bring his mother back to him. He had no real medical knowledge or enough resourcefulness to help someone in her condition.

He was utterly _helpless_ against her fate.

He'd made up his mind, he can no longer care about her, once for all. If she forgot about him, maybe he should forget about her too.

Yes, that would be for the best just to _forget_.

So he decided as he got further away from the hospital wing. His throat felt dry and burning. Suddenly, as he approached the end of the hallway, he noticed a strange figure, partly concealed by a wall at his right.

They were short, wearing a long coat with a large hoodie that concealed it's face. At the exact moment Matsuda shot his glare in their direction, the person swiftly disappeared from sight to the other hallway.

Matsuda stood there, puzzled, when the strange anonymous vanished from sight. Then, he recalled of the strange silhouette he'd seen before in his mother's room, and it made his stomach knot.  _Was he... being stalked?_

It could be just a misunderstanding, but just to make sure he wasn't delirious— the boy went to where the person scooted into.

But unfortunately, it wasn't possible to spot whoever-it-was when their track blurred by the mob that filled the corridor. Damn, it made the perfect opportunity for the unknown person to hide themselves from sight. 

Matsuda, with no interest to get involved in another affair for today, withdrew from the area.

* * *

He went back to the lobby, not bothering to inform Kimura that he was leaving. He used some of his leftover money on the vending machine, his ears welcomed by the obnoxious sound of whirring after inserting some yens. While waiting for the tin can to make its fall and come out, he looked at his surroundings carefully, he still had a feeling someone was keeping an eye on him. But what could anyone possibly want with someone like him?  Maybe it wasn't _him_ they were intended to follow. Either way, no person right in their mind would try stalk someone in a hospital or peek into a patient's room.

His eyes laid on the nearby wall pillars, it could be a perfect hiding spot for someone who wanted to stalk him from the shadows. He kept staring, waiting to spot any strange movement or sound.

After a few seconds of pure silence, he gave in. No one seemed to be around, the lobby wasn't crowded by many people and it seemed like he was the only one around. He felt relieved by hearing the sound of aluminium can hit from below, he bent over to draw the it out and fill his dry throat with liquid.

 

**_Tap tap tap._ **

 

He heard footsteps, but the moment he straightened his back, he heard nothing. He definitely wasn't imagining it, the floor was made of marble, and the lobby space was wide and quiet– meaning that even the smallest sound would create a resonance.

Which could only mean one thing– whoever was walking nearby, stopped their pace.

The person was right behind him.

He turned his head, to watch the same strange figure flee to the opposite direction. At the same time,  Dr. kimura's voice emerged from the other side.

“Yasuke-kun! There you are!”

Matsuda found the ordeal as an excuse to avoid the obnoxious physician. He wasted no time and lunged towards his stalker.

“Wha-?! Hey! Yasuke-kun wait up!”

He ignored Kimura's frantic calls and sprinted as fast as he could, but the figure in front of him was running way _faster._ Looking closely at them _,_ the person was more or less his height, wearing a military patterned parka concealing the back features of their body.

The dryness of his throat burned the more he was wearing himself out, but ignored his diaphragm and racing heartbeat that were practically _screaming_ for him to stop, and kept chasing the anonymous.

The person abruptly made a sharp turn to the other hallway towards the exit, a screeching slippery sound came out of the friction between their shoes and the floor.

Matsuda grumbled as he’d foolishly slipped and fell harshly on his backside, but he managed to recover quickly and launch to the same direction. Soon enough he was slowly managing to get closer to the person, extending out his arm to catch a fragment of their wardrobe and hold them back.

 _Almost there–_ he was getting closer to them, but sooner or later he was bound to wear out. Acting on a total impulse, he leaped forward and tackled the person with all his might, trapping them within his grasp as they lost their balance, meeting the cold marble floor.

He fell on top, getting his palms scratched during the harsh impact, and left to burn and ache from the pressure he further used. Ignoring  the pain, he kept his posture still in hurry to reveal the identity of the person beneath him– harshly yanking off the hoodie concealing the face.

His breath halted, heart raced even faster than during running. “You-!” he gasped.

The person under him had smooth black hair reaching slightly below her constricted shoulders, with deathly pale skin had a faint shade of pink, her petite figure resembled a small stick, and she looked at him with pair of bleak, icy blue eyes.

_“Ikusaba?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Ikusaba there~? Find out next chapter.
> 
> I thought it could be good idea to see Matsuda interaction with his mother during one of his visits. It always seemed very odd and unlikely that the doctors could prohibit such a young a child from addressing his own mother as he should due to her memory loss, I mean c'mon! That's way too cruel! 
> 
> For those of you who wonder— Yes, I intentionally names the neurologist 'Kimura', an indication that is Kimura Seiko's dad, or other relative for that matter. Because I figured that her extended knowledge about medicines and drugs and her access to those things from an early age has to be due to her family coming from a medical background. 
> 
> Anyway, I've gotta be honest- portraying a person with memory loss wasn't easy at all, and I did a small research about Alzheimer and Dementia patients behavioural patterns for it. But it is explained in a very... Sketchy way. So this is the result of my attempt to do it as best as possible.
> 
>  
> 
> N.B: Thanks for stopping by and reading!


	4. Marble

The girl was staring back at him from beneath blankly, her arms laid behind her torso, supporting her current position. She hardly looked affected by the fact she'd just got caught stalking him in a public area where every person could walk in and spot them.

This realization made him snap back into reality, his face gone pale registering their position. He was laying on all four on top of Ikusaba Mukuro who laid sprawled on the lobby’s floor, right underneath him. The moment he let off his guard was a mistake, the girl took advantage of his inactivity to throw him off her with a firm shove. Matsuda yelped as his body collided with the marble floor, but got up quickly enough to yank Ikusaba's arm and hold her in place.

“Why are you following me?!” He demanded. However the girl didn't speak, for she was too busy wiggling her arm out of his grip, which she managed to do successfully, however she didn't make any attempt to run again. Instead, her eyes were directed to their side, and her bleak eyes softened suddenly.

“Oops! Look like you've been found out.” He heard a voice emerging from the direction Ikusaba's eyes went— a familiar, jolly voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

He turned to see Enoshima skipping towards them from behind of the nearby pillar, her red hair bobbing at every hop.

“E-Enoshima?” He was unable to hold his shaky, flurried tone. His gaze scanned both girls and found the situation too difficult to comprehend. “What… what's going on? What are you doing here?”

Enoshima’s smile was as wide as ever, clearly not recoiled by his confusion. “Relax, Matsuda-kun. This morning you looked so upset so I figured a small visit would make you feel better!”

“A _visit_ ?” He blurted out, choking out a humourless snicker. “You _stalked_ me!” he raised an accusing finger at the two girls, who were now standing next to each other, facing him.

“Sheesh, 'stalking’ is way too harsh. I would say we were just ‘following’ you all the way here when you didn't notice~!” Enoshima replied cheerfully, clearly proud of her deed.

“That's exactly what it means to _stalk_.” he hissed. “You shouldn't be here.”

“Well, you also told me you're going to the comic store today. So that means you shouldn't be here either, isn't it? ” The girl threw the question at him, her calm expression didn't match the malicious tease dancing in her voice.

Matsuda felt his nerves simmering on the verge of explosion. He wasn't about to give in to another one of Enoshima's games, especially not when she also dragged another person into this— he thought as his eyes landed on the charcoal-haired girl, now staring at the floor. “What is _she_ doing with you?” he pointed his finger at Ikusaba.

“Oh, her?” Enoshima smiled casually and wrapped her arm around Ikusaba's shoulder, an action that earned a small squeak out of the girl. “Long story short, I could use a little help to track you down around here. So I brought Mukuro-chan along.” she then pulled Ikusaba closer to her in what supposed to be an _affectionate_ gesture.

“But who knew she'd fail her one job so _miserably_ with drawing your attention to us so soon?” Enoshima's tone shifted abruptly and was now lacing with venomous grim, her arm visibly tightened itself around Ikusaba's frame, and it was clear it was meant to _hurt._ However, the girl seemed to take that very positively, and she didn't make any attempt to squirm despite her clear discomfort— with a small, but noticeable flush on her cheeks and that shy smile that looked way too unnatural on her usual frozen features— A drop of sweat curled down Matsuda’s forehead as he kept looking at both girls in this short, and very unsettling display.

“Matsuda-kun deserves an apology after what you did. Don't you agree, _sis_?” Enoshima rolled her tongue at the last part of the sentence. Matsuda’s heart skipped a beat the very moment she let that part out of her mouth. Ikusaba's “apology” sounded like a faint breeze to his ears when all he could think about was the latter’s words.

“ _‘Sis?’_ ” he repeated after her, just to make sure he heard right.

“Oh... I didn't tell you, did I?” Enoshima cupped her cheek with her free hand, replying him with a faked, apologetic look.

“You’re sisters?” The questioned left his mouth with no intention to let Enoshima explain, not that he needed her to.  

“Twins.” she corrected. “Yup, me and Mukuro-chan are sisters!”

“But you two don't even share your last name!” he protested.

“Agh! Do you know how many times I get that?” Enoshima cried in frustration as she facepalmed herself.

“Junko-chan isn't lying.” Ikusaba— who decided to make her voice for the second time since Matsuda meet her (though it felt like the first since Matsuda hardly paid attention to the first time she spoke)— looked at him solemnly.

Now, when he looked at both girls he could see some similarities; Despite not sharing names or hair color, they both were exactly the same height. Ikusaba's nose bridge was abundanted with freckles, just like her twin's, and their eyes were both were lustrous greyish-blue and looked icy-cold if one bored into them for too long. It really didn't sound like a lie, Enoshima Junko and Ikusaba Mukuro were related.

After the understanding sank in, it followed by feeling of anger and distrust. Now knowing that Enoshima and Ikusaba and were this close, it solved all the mystery shrouded in that “incident”. And to think he was considering Enoshima was honest when she said she could “predict” based on vague facts, and it actually got him scared! Well, he had a reason to be scared of her now— she was a stalker.

“Then this whole “prediction” thing was bullshit…” he mumbled in his overgrowing rage. “You two were doing this together!”

Enoshima tilted her head aside, staring at him like an innocent calf. “What are you talking about?”

Like hell she didn't know what he was talking about, she was playing games with him all the time, no surprises she did the same now.

“Back when I first saw her, you knew Ikusaba had better chances of winning because you know her! So the being able to “predict” things was a stunt, I can't believe I almost fell for it!” Matsuda tone overwhelmed his burning throat, still dry from before.

“And what did you think dragging _her_ along and follow me around like it's nothing?! How much did you see?”

Ikusaba looked as if sudden worry seized her, she looked at her twin for any sign of reassurance. Enoshima, unlike her, kept the show on, eyeing him widely without a clue of said accusations.

“Oh, that’s all? Nothing much I guess. Why don't you ask Mukuro-chan? She's the one who went after you, after all.” she said and drew back his attention at her sister.

“How did you even know where I was?” Matsuda stepped closer to the girl, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I followed you and that doctor there.” She gave him a short answer that was far from satisfying.

“How? Someone should've seen you going after us and stop you.”

“I sneaked in, that's it.” She replied monotonously. If what she says is the truth, then it added another reason to loathe the system for its negligent security.

“So it was you who peeked through the door?” She nodded, not adding anything else. He wasn't about to ask her either, not when Enoshima heeded every word.

“So, aren't you gonna ask her about what she saw in there?” Enoshima interfered the interrogation in a playful tone, trying squeeze out every drop of information.

“No, because what she saw is none of your business!” Matsuda lashed at her, letting his composure crumble right there without care. Too many things occurred today, and ironically, Enoshima ended up being the straw that broke the camel's back.

“Yasuke-kun!” Great, now if the situation wasn't bad enough, Dr. Kimura's voice echoed through the lobby, panting and wheezing as he was running directly to the three.

“Thank goodness I've found you, the nurse told me everything and—” his ramblings ceased as he finally took a notice of the two girls.

“Oh! So sorry, I didn't see you're having company.”  the physician looked at the young boy.

“No no, that's okay sir!” Enoshima waved her hand dismissively, a sweet and polite smile plastered across her face.

He then smiled apologetically to both girls. “Excuse me young ladies, I need to have a word with Yasuke-kun privately for a moment.” Enoshima and Ikusaba said nothing to protest and gave the man a short nod before stepping a bit further from the them.

“Listen, the nurse had told me everything about what happened back there and I understand that was probably too much to handle on your own...” the physician words were nothing but vague noises to Matsuda's ears. “But no matter how upset you are you can't just run off like that without informing anyone—” The boy nodded in agreement, hoping it was enough to convince the man in front of him he was actually listening to every word, while in reality his head was too busy digesting the recent events to comprehend everything else.

After a short moment that felt like forever, Dr. Kimura finished his lecturing him about his 'wrongdoing’ before he turned around back for where he came from. He didn't walk away before approaching the two girls standing not to far away.

“I'll leave you three to it. Yasuke-kun needs support in time like this.” He said quietly with soft smile to both girls, and Matsuda rolled his eyes behind his back.

“Don't worry doctor, we're his _friends!_ We'll take good care of him!” Enoshima replied, her high-pitched tone made her words loud enough for Matsuda to hear from the distance. In fact, he was sure she clearly meant for him to hear her fully.

And when the doctor finally disappeared from sight, Matsuda no longer had to spare the death glare he saved for Enoshima and Ikusaba this whole time. Neither the gesture of pushing through the gap between the girls and furious sprinting session to the open. With fast, restless steps he walked further away from the building to the bus station.

The bus took its sweet time to arrive, and unfortunately, the boy found himself sitting inside of a half empty vehicle with none other than the same girl whom he was trying to get away from.

The two took a seat right behind him, and when the red-haired girl passed right next to him before sitting down, they exchanged his furious glare with her unaffected, subtle gaze.

The whole ride passed in silence, it felt truly strange that Enoshima said nothing more to him or pursued for answers, but he was thankful for not having to deal with her. Because at this time, his only wish was for the day to be over.

However, the silence and serenity of the dusk view seen from outside the window allowed him to think in hindsight about the earlier events. Devastation wasn't anything new for him, he'd gotten used to feeling that often when every attempt to communicate with his mother had failed miserably. But today it was more than he could take, he'd finally snapped. And to make it worse, _someone saw everything_.

Ikusaba Mukuro was there at the moment he was most fragile, vulnerable and pathetic. And now knowing her true connection to Enoshima, she surely was going to tell her if or without his contentment.

His fury and embitterment were for some reason, directed mostly towards the very person who he was supposed to call his 'friend’. But how could he not to? Enoshima crossed his boundaries, she _stalked_ him for goodness sake! That very action serves as a blunt warning for how unpredictable and potentially dangerous Enoshima Junko truly was.

But then again, he lied to her too. It wasn't a _bad_ lie, but it was still a lie. People around him had always told him that lying to your closest people is a bad thing, but everyone lie to each other at least once.

If so, then why he ends up feelings so bad with himself than Enoshima? Why does he feel so bad with himself rather than to stay angry with his mom?

When the bus halted at their stop, the three went out. They walked without exchanging any words or glares all the way back to the orphanage. The staff didn't bother call the girls for a reprimand about their late absence, and that's when they finally parted their ways.

The call for supper was heard around the dorms' hallways, and luckily his noisy roommates were gone after a minute. However, the boy didn't bother to leave along with them and plumped down on the mattress of his bunk bed instead, trying to vanish the guiltriping thoughts out of his head and get some rest. He fell asleep without even thinking of how was he going to face Enoshima Junko from now on.

* * *

 

Junko couldn't bear the joyful atmosphere followed by the laughs and smiles from the other children that accompanies her from birth anymore.  
  
It made her stomach knot whenever she was around to hear them chatting oh-so-happily, showing off presents from their families– a new pair of shoes, a generous allowance or just another useless but dainty souvenir– she heard everything.  
  
It was absolutely nauseous having to cope with seeing their eyes lit up and mouths filled with mirth, that hopeful spark that kept fuming her bottled-up rage. And as time passed, anxiety seized her as she slowly came to realize that some of those smiles came from her too.  
  
The more she got used to put on that “sweet and brilliant girl” act it slowly enacted as her reputation, as if it became a part of her.  
  
Except that it wasn't. She knew her real self– Enoshima Junko wasn’t all full of sweetness and childish innocence as her friends and teachers thought. She was wicked, desperate and all lies, but she was also smart and witted, and she used it to her advantage.  
  
She knew that revealing her true self was too dangerous, like giving her enemies a weapon to kill her with. But what was the point hiding it when everything about her life was just so tedious?  
  
How come everyone around her looked so happy all the time? There was nothing about their situation to be happy about.  
  
They say family needs to be there for eachother at any cost, and if any of those families truly cared for their children (for those who even had a family left) then why would they just throw them in an orphanage?  
  
She knew better than to believe those smiles, because it was obvious that behind them something was off. Deep down, every child felt left out, abandoned, neglected and uncared for. And no gift or present could ever truly make up for it.  
  
A broken child can never be fixed, she knows that.  
  
But even so, she keeps pretending. She bursts out of her room wearing a new frilly dress or a new pair of earrings that Mukuro bought her while they sneaked out and say that a rich relative of hers sent it. And her friends are stupid, so they believe her.  
  
The truth is she had no family except her twin sister, and Mukuro was the only person whom she could be truly herself with.  
  
Adoption is believed to be the only path for salvation for kids such as herself. With her personality, Junko knows every family would've snatched her by now. However, the moment they see her twin going berserk with her fierce violent tendencies, they ditch her on the spot, no one would want an unbridled child at their house, after all.

Adoption isn't an option for her; no way she's about to let anyone take her under their wing without her twin. The thought of getting used to such a boring life was unbearable.  
  
Besides, even if both of them had a family, nothing would be the same— If Mukuro were to be normal and happy, Junko could never be herself around her anymore; she would no longer have anyone else to trust.

Losing Mukuro is no option, she was hers– hers to taint, hers to sabotage, hers to torment and break. Mukuro was fine with how she got treated. Junko knew that as long as she was happy, so does her twin. As long as she convinces Mukuro that she's the only one she loves, the only one who cares for her, the only one who makes her worth something– Mukuro remains herself, and doesn't need anyone except Junko. They don't need a family, they have each other.  
  
But that day everything changed when Matsuda Yasuke agreed to be her friend. She was more than glad to find another kindred-spirit, it was rare to find– someone else who never bothers to put on a mask of fake happiness or pretend everything's okay.  
  
Junko had always been a professional at reading the people around her. During her life she found herself getting drawn to something else, and to people who had that something in them– people who didn't express it in their words but had it clearly engraved on their face.  
  
Matsuda was one of those people, sharp-tongued and cynical and overall—very damaged. She was hypnotized by those heavy shadows under his eyes that he'd never bother to conceal; messy, disheveled black hair he doesn't try to fix; marble eyes posing like hollow windows into the essence of his distress.  
  
She was intrigued by the aura around him, she was enthusiastic to dig in into the very core of his misery and embrace it. He had scars, it was obvious– scars that would turn back into fresh, bleeding wounds with the right words. She wanted that blood on her hands.  
  
Today he was at his desk again, reading some boring book like always. She approached his table in lofty skips and stopped in front of him, calling him cheerfully.  
  
“How's my favourite wise guy today? Wanna go and paint the whole town red?”  
  
He looked at her immediately, with an unusual look on his face. Something was wrong with him today. She wondered what was the cause of the new impairment.  
  
“Yeah, about that…” he started, avoiding her stare. Before he could finish, she interrupted.  
  
“Halt! I sense an excuse! Don't try then, you can't say no to me.” she pouted disapprovingly.  
  
“I have to go somewhere today, okay?” Matsuda cut her off impatiently, clearly upset about something. Anxiety, tension and discomfort– Junko saw on his expression. She stopped to think of a good response.  
  
“No worries! I don't mind coming with you!”  
  
“I can't bring you with me.”  
  
“Why? Where are you going?” It was obvious he wouldn't give a honest answer. But she tested her limits regardless.  
  
“I want to go to a store buy some new books...it's pretty far away. I just don't want to get into trouble with the staff, so you coming along with me would probably draw their attention… also, you'd probably get bored there.”  
  
Junko applauded in her heart. That was clearly the most well-vested lie she'd ever heard, she gave him credit for that. She should let Matsuda off the hook for now, it would probably be the best choice she could make.  
  
“Oh, that's it? Well, I guess you're right. Book stores are surely boring.”  
  
Matsuda's eyes widen in slight surprise “Thanks, I guess… I thought you'd be mad.”  
  
“Well, it does suck we can't hang out today. But no worries, it's forgiven since I can't argue with the hopeless otaku that you are.” Junko said and sticked out her tongue playfully. To which he replied with a faint, ressured smirk.  
  
Matsuda was going somewhere exceptional today that he doesn't want her to know about. Something he is very secretive about, something that makes him more upset and worried than usual. She wondered, where was he going? For what purpose? For what reason?  
  
_Now she was curious_. And that's when she came up with an idea. It was crazy and a very absurd one that no one right in their mind would've done, but that what made it brilliant.

_  
  
“You wanna go out where, Junko-chan?” Her sister looked at her cluelessly.  
  
“Depends of where Matsuda-kun goes.” Junko replied with a wide grin.  
  
“I don't understand.” the older twin said faintly. Junko wrinkled her nose, why couldn't her sister get it?  
  
“Mukuro dearest, I want to know where Matsuda-kun is going today. And your mission is to spy on him.”  
  
“You want me to follow him? Why?”  
  
“Does it really matter? Well, if you must know.” Junko halted and stirred away a group of curls away from her shoulder. “Matsuda-kun told me he can't hang out 'cuz he has to go somewhere today, but he refused to tell me what it was. So I want you to find out for me.”  
  
Mukuro tilted her head for a few seconds, a small pout appeared on her lips before those stretched into an unusual, cunning grin “You could always hang out with me instead.” her smile turned into an innocuous and affectionate one, an action that send an incredible irritation down Junko's veins. But then there was a new, brilliant idea brimming in her mind.  
  
“Awww, Is my sis jealous?” She squeaked and held out both of Mukuro's cheeks gently. “Well, guess I can't blame you. I was so focused on Matsuda-kun for so long that I hardly paid any attention to you. How so rude of me… I'm so sorry.” Junko pouted apologetically, eyes softening at her sister who turned red with flattery.  
  
“It's okay, Junko-chan… I don't blame you.” Mukuro ressured, scratching her reddening cheek.  
  
“Sooo… How about I'll join you then? I can't let you have all the fun spying on Matsuda-kun all by yourself! Sounds good?” Junko offered.  
  
The older twin's eyes sparkled in delight, not thinking twice before nodding eagerly. To which Junko returned her gratitude by snatching Mukuro into a tight embrace, both giggling merrily.

That afternoon, the twins sticked to Matsuda Yasuke like glue as they followed him around from the shadows. Junko's curiosity grew stronger as her boredom evaporated, trying to connect the dots together.

As she presumed, her friend was lying about his whereabouts. And eventually, found herself and her twin by the entrance of a large hospital building.

“A hospital? Why is he going to a hospital?” Mukuro mused, staring in awe at the looming structure. “Junko-chan, what are we going to do now?”

“Isn't that obvious?” Junko asked her twin in return, unable to control her widening grin. “We're going in.”


	5. Dispatch

It has been barely a week since his last visit at the hospital. But the more he spent energy in avoiding Enoshima, time passed much more slower than it used to.  
  
Enoshima seemed to take that obvious hint, and it was reflected by not coming to his desk at the most uncomfortable times pulling some annoying stunts to gain his attention at all. But occasionally, whenever she passed by him during class, she would glance to his direction with an unreadable expression.  
  
He couldn't tell if it was sadness, indifference or even guilt written over them.  
  
At breaks she was seen hanging out again around flocks of other children gossiping about all sorts of nonsense, and he could swear that he at least once heard his name spoken by one of those snobbish brats.  
  
He indulged himself in books more than usual, and with his luck he was in class just in time to be there when the red-haired girl was surrounded by other students, chatting wholeheartedly, and it made his nerves seeth.  
  
Was she finding her place again among those people she once called 'boring’, now that he wasn't around to entertain her anymore? The bitter thought made his veins radiate white heat, until he just couldn't bare Enoshima's presence in the same room as him anymore.  
  
He slammed his book shut loudly, and stormed out of the classroom to find a quiet place.  
  
One good thing about being separated from Enoshima was being able to go to library regularly again. And so he managed to pass another few weeks peacefully without having to think of her, until it was a full month since they last spoke.  
  
Matsuda had no intention to change that. Her glancing at him became a routine and her hanging around others couldn't bother him any less when he was in the library, looking for his next book. Nothing could be better than going back to reading like he used to. Without that girl distracting him again.  
  
_“Do you really want to waste your time in here until you'll run out of reading material?”_  
  
Sudden shivers went down his spine at the memory. He buried his face in both hands and sighed. He could no longer fool himself that things had gone back to normal so easily. As much as he wanted to pretend he didn't care, that Enoshima hadn't leave impact on his life during the short time of being friends with her, he just couldn't.    
  
He urged himself to shrug it off, but gave in as soon as another two minutes of reading the same line hasn't sunk in.  
  
A sound of footsteps unexpectedly could be heard nearby, and after a short while he heard a hard object plumping down on the table, the small shock forced him out of his posture.  
  
And his heart almost stopped in place when he saw Ikusaba sitting not too far from him with a pile of books.  
  
He hurried to focus on the pages lay in front of him, everything that could help him avoid Enoshima's twin sister. His attempt turned out to be successful, but only because the girl was too busy in scanning the pile. In fact, she didn't seem like she noticed his presence at all.  
  
That was until a moment too late before he realized he was looking at her intently, until her gaze met his.  
  
Neither said a word to each other, and Ikusaba returned to her books. Matsuda tried doing the same, but apparently he was more curious about what's occurring on her side of the table.  
  
He scanned briefly some titles on the hard covers around her area, and was immediately filled with bewilderment when words such as “guerrilla warfare” and “military history” popped into view.  
  
Was there a task in history they were given in class that he forgot?  
  
Aside from hardcover books, there was an open magazine laying carelessly close to him. Ikusaba seemed too busy in another book to notice him peeking.  
  
Looking at the papers, he saw a two-sides prospect filled with many colorful images of what it looked like— different types of bullet-proof vests and firearms, along with a short description written below each one— and he could hardly believe it was for a mere homework task.  
  
Though it was very uncommon for an elementary schooler to be invested in such topics, or be familiar with the concept of 'war’ at all. In fact, the closest he'd ever came to know about warfare was some stories about galactic evil forces and about civil wars, with wide description of advanced weaponry.  
  
Before he could check any more details, he almost jumped in his seat when Ikusaba's hand abruptly came in sight to snatch the magazine away.  
  
“What?” Her solemn voice echoed through the empty space.  
  
"Tch, Nothing...”  he gave a her a short, impatient answer. He had to keep in mind that this girl had no qualms about stalking him around in a public place nor peeking into his private life, and probably still holds none.  
  
At least now they were even on the matter.  
  
The awkward tension between them proceeded, following by a never-ending silence. The boy had learned his lesson, avoiding any possible eye contact with Ikusaba, and stared down at the papers. However, he could somehow feel her eyes gnawing him the entire time, burning on the side of his already clammy neck.  
  
“Just so you know… I haven't told her anything.”  
  
Her face remained as still as stone, and her monotonous tone was out of place. The fact that he couldn't make sense of the person in front of him made him irritated. She was almost as frustrating as Enoshima at this point. It took him a few good seconds to comprehend what she said. When he finally did, he scoffed.  
  
“Oh, really?” He used the same hostility in his tone the only way he knew. “Why should I believe you?”  
  
“Junko-chan likes you, and she knows you're upset. That's why she told me she didn't want to know. And that I shouldn't tell anybody else about it.”  
  
“About what?”  
  
“About your mother.” She whispered, but clarified it with sharp, blunt words that made Matsuda's stomach knot and his throat tighten uncomfortably, knowing his guess was correct.    
  
No, no. It wasn't likely for her to do that, there was no reason to believe Ikusaba at all. There's no way someone like Enoshima would spare herself such information.  
  
But what if it was the truth? What if Enoshima does consider him enough as a friend to regret what she did?— the thought made him question his own common sense, it was ridiculous. He couldn't just forgive Enoshima for everything she did so easily!  
  
“Then why do I need to hear that from you?” He knew he had a point, and a faint movement of Ikusaba's eyebrows upward suggested she realized it too.  
  
“If Enoshima wanted to say sorry, she could've done it herself. Not to tell you to do that instead.”  
  
Ikusaba frowned “She didn't send me. I just wanted to make things easier for her.” then averted her gaze from his downwards as she raised her voice slightly— the sudden display of emotion was surprising, and at that moment he knew he was walking on thin ice.  
  
But right now, he didn't really care.  
  
“Sure, having you around doing the dirty work instead does make things easier for her. Even for the most simplest things like actually admitting that she was a total jerk!”  
  
The librarian’s loud shush interrupted him, urging him to keep his voice down. But it didn't bother him when he could relish upon the unusual anger glinting in the stony eyes of the other girl.  
  
“Listen,” Ikusaba suddenly shifted and stood, hands leaning forward on the table towering above him with a piercing, icy glare. Yet wrath danced like glowing flames in her eyes as she was staring right at him. “Junko-chan maybe likes you, but I don't. She may think of you as her friend, but I'm her sister . I know her better than you, and I'm the only one who can truly understand her. So don't you get cocky and think you are safe from me if you talk badly of her, because I’ll make sure you'll regret it.”  
  
Matsuda didn't flinch under her sudden, ominous tone. But he didn't dare to say anything else that might provoke her even more. Her eyes were unusually filled with grim and aggression, she looked like a wolf trapping her prey. But in reality, she was just baring her teeth to a threat, trying to protect her fragile boundaries.  
  
Ikusaba shifted back into sitting position, ignoring his presence and he did the same with her. Having her around now wasn't any less awkward or irritating, but there was one thing could make him feel a bit more triumph now— that Enoshima was the weakness they both shared, they were even.

* * *

  
_What does Junko-chan find in him?_  
  
Mukuro gathered her things after a short while and stormed out of the library, the fury fuming her veins had her pace increased restlessly.  
  
_He's obnoxious, he's mean, and worst of all, he’s ungrateful._  
  
She was crossing the corridors in such alarming speed, yet her footsteps made no sound but a mere taps on the ground.  
  
Students and children or teachers around were too oblivious to see the young girl passing by.  
  
_"Doing the dirty work?" Like he knows what it means to actually care about family. His mother is just a lost cause, that's why he’d never understand._  
  
Being Junko's older sister, it was her job to take care of her. Who was this Matsuda to think he knows better?  
  
She knows Junko hated it when she doubted her taste in choosing friends, and she knows how selfish it was of her to claim her Junko just for herself.  
  
But it served him right— Matsuda Yasuke should know his place, because no matter how close he thinks he is with Junko —no one knows Junko better than Mukuro.  
  
_If Junko-chan knew about what I've just said to Matsuda behind her back, she would probably hate me forever._  
  
The thought made guilt curl up her stomach, realising her words might've doomed Junko and Matsuda's friendship permanently.  
  
She was really stupid, thinking she could fix everything herself— even with having good intentions, she made a hash of it.  
  
_Junko-chan was right when she said I only mess everything up._

In hindsight, maybe ending things between those two wasn't such a bad thing after all— she could have Junko for herself again! And if that wouldn't be enough, there was still a chance for Mukuro to make up for it.  
  
_Junko-chan doesn't need to know._  
  
Mukuro maybe was a total screw up, but at least she could make herself useful;  
  
looking down at the books in her hands, and a small grin of content stretched across her face, satisfied with her resourcefulness—It was one of the few things that made her useful.

The world of combat and warfare has always seemed so thrilling to her. Eventually it became her world— but even that small, narrow world was nothing but an empty shell if it wasn't for her younger twin sister to fill it with a purpose.

it started just from picking up fights with other kids who treated Junko badly and managing to beat them up without breaking a sweat to writing articles about warfare and combat on the net as a hobby.

And who knew this hobby of hers would've become a job offer?   
  
She was back in her and Junko's room in no time, now empty with no one except for her (Junko probably went outside alone again with the other girls).  
  
Sitting down on her bed, she took one of her notebooks and tore some blank pages out of it. A pencil in her one hand and the papers in the other, with the information she absorbed— ready to take her knowledge into a whole new level.

This way she was going to prove she was capable of being useful. She would do anything to have same pair of approving eyes of her sister to look up to her in admiration and tell her she'd done well.


	6. Resolve

_It felt so long since the last time the twins went out to spend time together until the upcoming curfew. The sun of late afternoon was slowly sinking beneath the skyscrapers, the street lights were already on as evening was slowly creeping by. Junko and Mukuro were crossing the shopping district like they usually do, hand in hand._ __  
__  
_But today turned out quite different than expected when Mukuro found herself dragged by Junko to a comic book store— a very unlikely decision on her part._ __  
__  
_And she had a feeling she knew exactly why Junko wanted to go there._  
  
_Mukuro had never wished in her life to go back more than she did now._

 _The amount of people crowding the shop was overwhelming, a great part of them were wacky enthusiasts flocking over each section and heard arguing aloud, filling the entire shop with their irascible voices. The shelves spread out in countless of long columns, reminding her of an endless maze that threatens to swallow her whole. She was trailing after Junko the whole time, without a clue of what exactly her twin was planning this time at such a dense place filled with things she wouldn't have touched if it wasn't for a good reason._ __  
__  
_The younger twin looked around, her fingers fidgeted through the many books on the shelves, scanning the pictures on the cover and the summary on the back. So far, she repeated the same action a few times before spitting a torrent of insults about every novel or manga she came across._ __  
__  
_“Is that all they got? These stories are so corny and banal that I already know exactly how they'll end! I seriously can't believe some people are stupid enough to throw their money for this garbage!” Junko cried out for every person in the store to hear, as well as demonstrating a disgusted look as she put a finger on her tongue to emphasize it— a gesture that the cashier seemed very offended by, so did the other customers who gnawed at the red-haired with countless pairs of alarmed eyes._ __  
__  
_Mukuro almost laughed at how her sister never missed a chance to express her utter disdain without a care in the world. Junko's castigating tone took over the entire store, overpowering the other voices._ _No matter where they'd go or how big is the mob they stood in, Junko would always find a way to stand out and shine brighter than the rest— and it made the situation look easier to handle._ __  
__  
_“If you don't like any of them we could just leave.”_ __  
__  
_“That's not for me, silly. It's for Matsuda-kun! Y’know, to make it up to him. That guy is a sucker for these things, but I think even he has better standards than this crap." she finished while pointing at the booklet she pulled out of the shelf before with the same disapproving look on her face._ __  
__  
_Mukuro grimaced at the mentioning of the obnoxious boy’s name, knowing well what happened between the two of them ever since they followed the boy into the hospital— and the fact that Junko prohibited her from ever talking about it._ __  
__  
_“I’m not sure it's a very good idea, Junko-chan…”_ __  
__  
_Junko halted, shifting her attention to her older twin— her gaze became stern as she spotted Mukuro tensing up._ __  
__  
_“Why not? I know that face of yours, are you going to give that half-assed speech again?”_ __  
__  
_The elder jolted up, intimidated by her sister's sudden hostility. “No, it's just...I know you like him, but I don't think he wants anything to do with the both of us after what happened… You even said he tries to avoid you!”_ __  
  
_“So what?” Junko replied, completely calm and unfazed. “People react in so many ways when they're mad, avoidance is just one of them. The key is for the other side to make the first move. People aren't like you, sis. Nobody stays passive to such situations, they actually choose to take actions. People don't just wait for someone else to tell them what to do!”_

_-_

Mukuro wasn't entirely sure that she understood what Junko meant by that. At first, she thought it a way for Junko to tell her she'd wish Mukuro would've helped her to mend things between her and Matsuda.

And who was she to stay passive to her sister's situation?

So she tried talking with Matsuda, even with knowing chances are that she won't succeed convincing him to forgive Junko. And just as she thought, in the end she did receive nothing but a cold shoulder from the boy— and the frustration slowly building up inside of her made her think back about Junko said.

 _“People don't stay passive to such situations”_ and _“They don't wait for others to tell them what to do”_. Did she misunderstood? It doesn't seem like she got Junko's wording wrong if her memory was truly as good as she thought it was— then why when she did as she was told everything went wrong? Why did she fail?

 _“Having you around doing the dirty work instead does make things easier for her.” —_ Matsuda's words suddenly crossed her mind. And then, the bitter understanding sank in, and Mukuro felt her heart sink at Junko's blunt statement, subconsciously curling her palms into fists.

She hated to admit that the same Matsuda she dislikes so much had a point, and so did her twin (which wasn't new, Junko had always been right about her).

Mukuro wasn't the type to understand how the people around her work, nor how to read their feelings or how to act around them, to the point that wielding a gun looked as a mere child's play compared to that.

When children were asked what they wanted to be when they grew up, many tiny voices emerges with the familiar kind of naive wishes in their answers— businessman, astronaut, model, pilot, teacher and the list went long and wide.

There was no answer in Mukuro's mouth, not ever. She learned that people have those strange ‘ _needs_ ’ they strive to fulfill when it comes to what _they_ wanted. And Mukuro? She had none of her own.

Ikusaba Mukuro knew back then that she was just a little girl with no will of her own and good for nothing more but to be bossed around. And whenever she _did_ do something on her own, it had to be beneficial for Junko, which always made her desperate for any form of validation from her twin—Sometimes, everything made her question her own humanity.

But she didn't need her humanity— in fact, as long as Junko was kind enough to give her attention and love, she felt whole. And a happy Junko makes her happy too. Mukuro's only wish was for Junko to be happy around her.

Or so she believed before she received a part-time job as a magazine writer— a military magazine, to be exact. 

The editors would probably choke on their saliva if they were to know she was just a third-grader. However, despite her age, Mukuro had already been introduced to the world of army. As long as she could remember, she was good at starting fights— and so she encountered no difficulty finishing them.

Her opponents maybe were no big and experienced soldiers, but kids who were older and visibly fitter. She may have looked small and weak compared to the others, but when she was put in her fighting groove; she galloped faster than a doe and her fists were as strong as iron.

She got her hands on many old copies of army magazines to expand her knowledge, until she memorized every type of firearms and their functioning, every piece of news about recent operations and how the gears behind the world of warfare worked— and everything soon inspired her to start writing her own essay.

She'd never thought she'd get immersed in writing at first, but she couldn't deny she found it relaxing when her fingers glided across the keyboard in alarming speed in her search for information. And it filled her with muse whenever she filled her school notebooks with the many ideas she came up with.

Eventually she started posting small pieces of her essays on websites of army enthusiasts, and soon she was in touch with some editors who desperately wanted to use them for their magazines— and at first she started working for free.

She hid everything from the staff and teachers, even Junko didn't know about her strange ‘writing career’. She kept doing so as a mere hobby, but she knew deep down she was meant for the army world. For the first time in her life, she felt _human—_ a human with normal _desires_ and normal _feelings_ and _thoughts_.

When they offered her a payment, Mukuro couldn't be any happier. She immediately snatched the opportunity to earn some extra money for the twins’ savings. That was a way she could finally make Junko look up to her like she used to, she could finally prove she wasn't just a sack of muscles.

Mukuro leaned on the bed as she proudly admired her results, knowing her efforts would finally pay their worth—Junko surely is going to be proud at her for the accomplishment.  
  
But after a moment of thinking in hindsight, she was no longer sure if it was just for Junko's sake she was doing it. She had always been intrigued in the world of warfare, she was always suited for it and could feel it in her flesh and bones— she could even admit she wasn't thinking of Junko at all when she was so focused on accomplishing her task.

That realization struck her like a lightning, and she found herself more confused and shaken than she'd ever been before. It made no sense, it wasn't because she _loved_ it that she took the job, was it? She was just good at it, it was the money they promised that made her agree.

Ikusaba Mukuro had no right as a person to have hopes and aspirations like normal people have; if she wanted something, it was for Junko's sake.  _Shame_ was the best word to describe her current feeling. She didn't want to be honest that maybe she did find it more of a mission rather than a calculated decision. She didn't want to admit that her only passion in life was finding her place in the military world, where feral beasts such as herself could fit in and become worthy.

She shook her head, banishing the mere thought of it. It was as clear as day, it was still for _Junko_ whom she was willing to go miles for; her abilities meant to protect someone, and that someone was Junko. And no matter how she feels, she must always remember that.

* * *

 

The bell rang and announced the end of another tedious school day. The children vanished from the classroom one by one, their immense chatting died down as they disappeared from sight.

Matsuda was taking his time putting everything back in his bag, he had no reason to hurry. When he finished, the classroom was all empty except for him. The dead silence felt so welcoming, the emptiness of the space matched the one going through his head right now.

Another visit at the hospital was drawing near and he counted the days anxiously more than ever. A long moment of thinking brought him to the decision that he had to utilize this opportunity as much as he could before the day arrives.

He settled by his desk, pulling out the a novel he read many times already. Most of the times the books the library had to offer weren't enough, so he tended to get them from his own allowance. However, even his money wasn't enough to purchase more than one book each month— which was the reason he had to read the same books more than once.

He read the first thirty pages with ease, unaware of how the time passed by so swiftly. He looked up at the clock above the wall— it was four P.M. already. Taking a moment to stir his attention from the book, he glanced at his surroundings— the atmosphere almost seemed heavenly, followed by the mere sound of rustling leaves and chirping birds, with the warm sunlight radianting the entire classroom, without a single sign for a living human-being to disrupt it.

It was just him, all by himself.

Since when being all alone seemed so terrifying?

Matsuda knew himself, he wasn't a social butterfly. He liked being alone and surely he would have preferred it over everything else.

So why, why did he feel lonely all of the sudden?

The atmosphere grew more and more tensing, until the boy felt almost trapped within the silence of the classroom. Matsuda abruptly left his chair and hurried to leave the place with his things.

He made an unusual decision when he went to the playground— which was empty as well, and didn't make much of a difference than before. But still it was most likely to be run by another person than in the classroom.

He sat still on one of the swings, making very faint movements back and forth, the galvanized chains creaked loudly in his ears. It wasn't helpful at all, the more he spent his time utterly alone the more the situation escalated for the worse. Every attempt to gather up his thoughts together failed miserably as they drawn back to picture _her_ with her familiar smiling face and wild crimson hair.

“Damn it!” Matsuda gnashed his teeth in annoyance at the unwanted thoughts his stubborn, devious subconscious filled his head with. He grabbed a fistful amount of his hair and pulled it slightly forward. The pain was dull, it wasn't hurting enough, it wasn't enough to get these thoughts to go away.

What was he even thinking, believing that _he_ could make friends? The only person he’d ever valued ended up hospitalized for four years separated from each other, and the very first friend he'd ever made turned out to be messed up.

He couldn't help but to think that something about him attracted all the misfortune in the world. It's not fair, but life had never played fair with Matsuda Yasuke. This devastating, oppressive feeling was slowly building up inside of him again— _the sensation that feels like quicksand grabbing his ankles and dragging him down into its deep, endless pit mercilessly. And he can't scream for help, he can't think straight, his body is numb and he feels too small and too weak to fight back, and eventually he lets it swallow him whole, giving up on the world and on himself and on everything entirely._

 _Huh? What is this?_ His cheeks felt oddly moisty, he brought his hand up to his eyes and confirmed his assumption— he was tearing up.

 _No, he couldn't do that._ He thought as he hurried to wipe his face with his sleeves. Crying wasn't for him. Crying was for babies who have no words in their mouths or for people who foolishly choose to expose their weakness.

As his arms were mopping across his face, he spotted in the corner of his eye a presence of another person. He halted immediately, uncertain if his eyes dried out yet, but nevertheless he glanced to his side and saw a certain girl with curly red hair and blue eyes standing not too far from him.

Matsuda stared at her wordlessly, without any plan forming in his mind. He wasn't prepared, he didn't even thought about what to say or how to react.

Enoshima Junko looked at him with an unreadable expression, her curly hair swaying in the breeze, hands behind her back.

“Matsuda-kun…”


	7. Method In Madness

“Matsuda-kun…”

Enoshima's usual upbeat voice came out as faint as her movements. Her pace seemed so painfully slow while Matsuda froze, anxiously watching her approximate. He wouldn't dare to admit it, even to himself, of how afraid he truly was upon facing her again.

The gears in his brain struggled to swivel, trying to come up with something snide to say— to let Enoshima know of how much he didn't want to see her. However, the moment he tried his mind went completely blank. Mortified, his lips found themselves pursed firmly against each other as he stared at Enoshima inching closer like a complete fool.

Soon enough, instincts took control in the place of words; his body hurriedly shifted upwards in a defensive manner, his feet took a few shaking strides further from the approaching form of the girl. Eyes fixed upon her so intently he could swear he couldn't recall blinking even once.

And Enoshima's reaction to this? She simply smiled, with a _warm, delicate, full-of-understanding_ kind of smile. The cold hue of her blue irises melted with the reflection of red and yellow painting the afternoon skies. For a moment, they seemed radiating with warmth, but it only made his blood run cold.

“You don't have to be scared or something, I'm not gonna bite.” she joked, without any lilt of jest.

_Scared?_

At that moment, he could no longer deny— he was indeed, _scared_ ; he couldn't ignore his own heartbeat galloping through his eardrums, escalating further the more Enoshima's gaze trapped him within her range of sight.

This felt like a painfully familiar scenario, this sort of anxiety he could never shake away whenever he faces his mother, knowing what's going to happen yet never ready to endure any more of it.

Harbouring such feelings for Enoshima as well was making zero sense, yet they were there. He thought for a moment, and realized that he was doing her too much of a favour. She wasn't worth it, not at all, she wasn't worth of him getting _scared_ of her.  

"What do you want?” thankfully, the reaction came out of him as a natural reflex to the building up anger. Anger made him cool-headed and focused, and thankfully it also helped to overcome any shred of fear he had a moment ago.

“I just wanted to talk with you.” the girl replied calmly, stopping from her tracks and settling herself within a short, yet spacious enough distance between both of them.

“Too bad, because I don't want to talk with you.”

Even though his hostility picked up well at this point, deep down he was dimly aware of the girl's abrupt change of attitude as she kept pursuing him with her compromising offer. And “ _compromising”_ was definitely the last word one would use to describe Enoshima.

“Matsuda-kun, are you mad at me?” the inquiry left her mouth with such innocence, he could almost interpet it as a genuine cluelessness on her part.

“No shit, Sherlock! How long it took you to figure that out?”

Enoshima fastened her arms tightly behind her back, long enough for Matsuda's suspicion to grow at what she might be hiding behind it. At first, he forced himself to shrug it off as irrelevant. But as it turned out, he couldn't be more wrong--

After dodging his remark wordlessly, her hands hastily unlocked themselves and extended towards him, revealed to be holding a item; a thick, medium-sized booklet.

_Was that… what he thought it was?_

He blinked twice in a row to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. They weren't. Held between Enoshima's palms was a light novel.

And not just any novel, but the second volume of the novel he'd been reading over and over again.

“H-how…?” He failed to hold back the astonishment going through his head, given to the fact he'd been waiting for so long to read it.

“I happened to see you reading the first one a few times, thought you wanted to have second too. Y’know, ‘cause I'm good at analyzing." The last part of the sentence brought a grimace to Matsuda's face. He couldn't really tell whether she was joking or not, but the statement couldn't possibly hold any positive impact now. However, apart from that, it also occurred to him that she was seriously thinking of earning his forgiveness by bribing him with a book.

He quickly gained back his composure, mustering enough courage to change his stance and inch closer to the resolved one still nudging the book into his view. He stopped not too far in front of her, sulking as his gaze fixed at the girl who never flinched.

“A book? Really?” his brows furrowed. “Did you really think giving this to me could change my mind? You really are a dummy.”

Enoshima's eyes widen, looking both offended and confused at once. “What, wasn't it the one you wanted?”

“It's not the book, it's _you_! Stop playing dumb!” the loud octave of his voice earned a faint recoil out of the red-haired.

“Me?” She repeated again, her ingenuous tone slowly getting on his nerves until he simply couldn't hold back the fury he has been oppressing inwardly.

“Yes! You’re just so… unpredictable!”

His foot met the ground in a stamp of sheer rage. “You always think you know everything better than anyone else, you decide to stalk me and violate my privacy just because you feel like it, and then…!” He halted to catch in his breath. “.... turns out you have a sister who's also your partner in crime, and then I find out that this entire time, you just used her to pull a stunt to scare me off. You're a _liar_ and a _stalker_!” his finger was now pointed straight at her under said accusations, only then he noticed the immense heat pooling his entire face.

This girl was dangerously close to driving him mad.

“You're wrong Matsuda-kun.” Enoshima suddenly went grimly stern, her hair casted a heavy shadow above her cold eyes. “Just because Mukuro-chan is my twin doesn't mean I used her. Even if I know what she's capable of, there's always a chance that she could've ended up being a pulp of meat at that time.”

Matsuda sulked again at the brutal description, unconvinced. It did make sense, but whether Enoshima's predictions were a real thing or not, it wasn't the pressing issue. And he could see through the transparency of Enoshima's attempt to avoid it.

“You did use her to follow me around, and you probably was the one behind her trying to appease me, weren’t you?”

“She did what?” Enoshima's brows rose questionably, looking genuinely taken aback by his statement.

“Ikusaba confronted me the other day, she said she hasn't told you anything about what she saw. But you probably was the one who told her to talk to me out of it.”

She tapped a finger on her chin thoughtfully, letting out a low hum. “If that's what my sister told you, then she was telling the truth; I asked her to keep everything to herself. But I definitely didn't know she came to you.” As much as he tried, Matsuda found no sign of dishonesty behind Enoshima's eyes, her claim sounded perfectly reliable and firm he could almost find himself believing it.

“E-even if you're not lying, I don't find a reason to trust you again.”

“Then… you don't want to be friends anymore?”

Matsuda piped down very suddenly at the speculation, and he hesitated to open his mouth again. Taking a long moment to think this through, maybe deep down, when he kept avoiding her, he'd already decided they weren't friends anymore. However, his thoughts always shifted back to their short bout every time he'd tried convincing himself so. The times they spent together felt phenomenal, it made him feel special, wanted, unjudged by others. Even when he was aware Enoshima was loud, whimsical, even overbearing, he felt none of it truly mattered since she made him feel less lonely.

He was at loss, clearly the answer wasn't positive, but it also wasn't otherwise. So far, Enoshima doesn't seem to actually understand why he would be mad or angry in the first place, or maybe she was just dodging the topic on purpose. That led him to the conclusion that confirming the  decision to part their ways might be the trick to eschew her manipulation.

“How can I be friends with someone who  walks all over me and then acts like it's no big deal!?” the light-covered novel was deftly snatched away from Enoshima's hands. “I never thought you could get that low, trying to bribe me with a book.” disgusted, he tossed the booklet onto the ground very harshly, in a way he'd never believed he would've treated any book in his life.

Dumbfounded, it seemed that his reaction cut Enoshima deep. Both of them ignored the book, letting it lay without a purpose on the dirty lawn of the playground, until it would become forgotten if they'd kept overlooking it for long enough.

“I don't understand you, Matsuda-kun. Why were you trying to hide where you were going to begin with?” Matsuda swallowed a bit too loudly for his own liking. Instead of the result he'd actually wished for, this came instead. Enoshima indeed stopped dodging the issue, in fact, she was pressing into the most sensitive topic Matsuda could've thought of. At this point, maybe Enoshima was truly good at analyzing enough to learn his weakest spot and use it for her mind games. He could swear there was a hint of malice in the faint movement of her lips edges going upward. “Is there something you're afraid I'll find out?”

“Y-y'know what? Yes. Even I have things I don't want anyone to see or know, not even you.” he admitted, all left for him to do was look down. His ears filled with the rattling noise between his teeth, rubbing against each other. That until, a spark of realization casted a heavy light in his mind.“And you know that too. Otherwise why bother silencing your sister?”

“Aah... you've got me.” her fingers barely managed to conceal her overgrowing grin as her eyes were goggoling at him slyly.

“Well, at first I admit— I was merely curious to find out what you were hiding, that's why I wanted Mukuro-chan to follow you. But then I saw how upset you were when you found us, so I figured maybe it's best if I didn't know.”

“Then why didn't you say anything?”

“I kinda believed you would've calmed down by then and everything would go back to normal. So I waited very patiently, to earn your forgiveness over time, like a good girl.” to emphasize the 'good girl’ part,  she brought one hand up, fingers halfy clutched next to her chin, while the other gingerly fastened the hem of her dress, her eyes sparkled abundantly, giving her an appearance of a flashy doll. Matsuda only scowled in response to the fauxed, girlish display unfolded before him.

“I wasn't born yesterday, you know. If you wanted everything to ‘go back to normal’ I hardly believe something like that could've stopped you.”

“Sharp, aren't we?” without hesitation, the shorter girl hastily snapped out of her act, which he couldn't be more grateful for. “You’re right again, I wasn't very fond of you avoiding me. It was so mean, hurtful, infuriating… How could you?!” Her tone picked up from sheer glee to exasperated screeching. At this point, Matsuda refrained from commenting Enoshima's abrupt mood swings, given to how fake as and exaggerated they were.

“You could've said something, but you _didn't_.”

Enoshima paused, her expression had no trace of anger, nor the broad smile or lively spark in her eyes. She looked completely, utterly _numb_ , a hollow, emotionless utterance painted all over her face.

At that moment Matsuda felt that the temperature around him dropping.

“Being avoided… rejected… by the very person you care so much about, you have no idea how devastating it is…” she murmured, invisibly getting closer and closer to him. “It's no joke, Matsuda-kun. I've felt horrible. Knowing that it is me who made you so upset, for driving you away from me…” the girl tilted her chin upwards, face fully facing his.

What was she trying to say here exactly? That she actually felt bad? Was she trying to use it as a bargain chip, to make _him_ look like the bad guy?

“... I've hanged around so many kids who considered me as their “friend”. They think I'm pretty and smart and adorable and so damn _perfect_.” her tongue clicked loudly, carrying at the last syllable. “No matter what, people can't get mad at me. Even my sister is too much of a doormat to set her own boundaries.”

“What are you trying t—”

“I’m tired of it, of being “perfect”. Can you imagine what kind of life is this when you're able to predict every outcome and know everything from the start?”

“How is this relevant—?!”

“It's _boring_ , everything's boring and it feels empty and numb to be alive. How can you gather good and bad memories, to learn from mistakes, to be excited to discover new things and feel human?” Rage was slowly building up in her as she kept lecturing him with rhetorical questions she couldn't leave unanswered.

“That's right, you _don't_ . Everything new you try becomes a chore! Building sandcastles, making friends, studying, bossing Mukuro around…” her incomparable ramblings wore Matsuda out from trying to argue, so all left for him to do is stand and listen. The more she spoke, he paid close attention to the slow changes in her tone, and before he knew it he felt something strange— like he could recognize the subtle hint of _pain_ in her voice. Even though none of her words made any sense to him, he welcomed the abrupt feelings like an old friend. His common sense felt shut down entirely as he got baited into the heart-pouring speech.

“But when you started avoiding me… no, even before, since the moment I first saw you, I knew you are different. I couldn't make sense of you, and I sensed something about you that felt familiar to me. You're the only one who showed me anger, doubt, fear… you got mad at me, and I couldn't understand how. I couldn't predict it, the situation was something new!” Enoshima Junko's tone picked up with amplified ecstasy, her dreamy expression giving off a heavy impression she was no longer in touch with reality. “Experiencing something so unique for the first time, I couldn't just let go of it, you know? I wanted to prolong it, to remind myself someone could actually hate my guts and make me feel _helpless_. I had to embrace it, Matsuda-kun, I just had to!” both of her arms slowly snaked around her own frame, emphasizing it by embracing herself in front of him.

The boy couldn't avert his eyes away from the unsettling spectacle, unsure if it was another act or genuine; either way, he wasn't a fond of neither options.

Repulsed and confused at the same time, Matsuda couldn't bear to listen to this any longer. Enoshima's shrill voice started make his head swirl already, if trying to decipher her words wasn't enough of a sisyphean task. But picking up the tiny fragments of information he had, he could only gather up a very bleak conclusion out of them.

“Then… you let me avoid you _on purpose_?” hurt, betrayed and ashamed. What else could he ask for to make this feeling even worse?

“That's correct! You got that positively right! A 100% truth!” The girl exclaimed eagerly, loud and clear.

“YOU’RE SICK!”

Everything suddenly went dead silent, including Enoshima herself. Awed, she looked at him expectantly.

“Then, does this mean that this is how you see me? As someone to keep you entertained? You have no trouble walking all over my feelings,  just to get the reactions you want, because it's the only thing that doesn't get you bored, is that what you're saying?!”

“No, I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

He was about to keep his castigation, until his ears perked up at her sudden rebuttal.

Did he hear right?

Was Enoshima Junko, the girl who does whatever she wants, whenever she wants and have no regrets— had just said she was _sorry_?

“I took it too far. I came here today because I've realized that despite how messed up I am, I didn't want to lose you.” for a moment, it seemed all of Enoshima's masks dropped onto the ground. There was no hint of an exaggerated act or pretence when she spoke. Her voice boarded from down in the mouth to utterly expressionless— Matsuda wondered if that was her genuine tone.

“You're the only one I can call best friend because you make me feel _human_!” Enoshima looked up to him full of litany, abruptly shifting closer to him than before, until her body  threatened to collide with his. “I hoped giving you this stupid manga could spare me the sappy apology, but of course I was wrong… and I know that what I've just said sounds like a total baloney to you. Sometimes I can't help thinking I don't deserve having you as a friend…” he felt her petite hands subconsciously fidgeting lightly onto his sleeves, until a choppy gasp left him when her hands were fully grabbing onto the fabric.

“...But here I admit it, I'm sorry for making you upset. Whatever reason you didn't want to tell me, it's your right, and I shouldn't have done what I did. So I understand if you'd never want to tell me about it, just accept my apology and let's be friends like we used to.”

Matsuda felt his jaw drop down. He knew Enoshima was good at many things, but he could never have guessed that _apologizing_ was one of them.

He froze while the girl bowed her head downwards, cramping his shirt, perplexed. It felt way too quick to let everything go and forgive Enoshima, even though she'd just gave him the deepest, and sincere-looking apology, given to the incomparable speech she had. Her emotions sounded genuine, it didn't feel like she was making everything up even though she was probably talented enough to do so.

He would've liked to think that she meant everything she said. And it might be a very foolish decision to put trust in that messed up, frenetic, yet special person that was Enoshima Junko, just for the sake of going back to the days of having fun and banter. But another thing he knew, that he'd regret this deeply if he'd never do it.

After the long pause, he gently pried her hands away from his shirt, forcing her to look at him in the eye.

Her eyes bored at him with subtle anticipation, her mouth gently forming a small gap of surprise. She finally looked _human_ , a side of her she willingly showed him and him alone. Whether it was real or just an act, the overwhelming wave of unreadable emotions he didn't bother to understand dismissed the thought.

“Next week… I'm going to the hospital again.” he hesitated, ignoring the cold logic that kept him safe for so long. “Actually, I have to be there every month, thought you should know about it at least…”

Enoshima studied him as his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously, before another smile spread across her face. “Alrighty then, I guess it means we're good now?”

“D-Don't jump to conclusions! I'm still mad at you, but I still want us to be friends… so for now, it's a yes. Unless you're planning another trick to pull off and then it'll be officially over!” His 'threat’ didn't sound convincing in the least to his own ears, but he wasn't trying too hard to begin with.

“C'mon, I've just apologized. You think I'm stupid enough to repeat the same mistake again?”

Unknowingly to the two children, the sun had already disappeared beneath the horizon, leaving behind a thin line of orange to be swallowed by the imminent darkness.

“Should we head back?”

“Nah, there's still time before until the grumpy woman calls everyone for dinner.”

The boy agreed to her suggestion incredulously, both children settling in the pair of empty swings. A serene silence broke out between the pair as they swang in unison, which brought an anomalous idea to the boy's head.

Gazing deftly to the clueless girl right besides him, he felt somewhat close to her more than ever.

They shared something special, something that differed them from the others; it could be their loneliness, or maybe it could be their jokes and banter. But he knew it was something bigger, with deeper meaning than mere friendship.

There were many times he has become deeply domiciled in his own misery, until he could sense the impending moment he'll go insane. It was building up with the many experiences he could recollect at once; his mother getting dragged to the hospital, being taken away from his home, greeted by the looming walls of the dreary orphanage, pestered on daily basis by other kids… there were moments he came to believe a salvation could ever come. Long nights of depression and sadness only books could help dissolve.

Sadly, books weren't enough to provide him a distraction from all of his hardships. A part of him agreed that having a companion to open up to, just once, could be relieving. That part was usually subjugated by the part of pure common sense and past memories.

He sensed their battle occuring presently, fighting for dominance like a pair of wild beasts. The battle seemed eternal the more he doubted, but in the end he knew what he wanted and which side won before it even began.

“Hey, Enoshima.” Matsuda broke the silence, his feets gritted against the ground as he stopped the swing.

“Ummm?” The girl turned her head to him, using the same actions and halt as well.

“I thought that, maybe, you could come with me next week?”

Enoshima's face lit up in response. “Matsuda-kun invites _me_ to go out? I'm so flattered!”

“That's not funny!” A faint pink complexion pooled the boy's cheeks, either flustered or jittery. “I just hate going there alone all the time. That's all…”

“Sure thing. I'll go with you!”

Matsuda wasn't sure about this impulsive decision of his, he might regret this in the future. But there was also a chance this could turn out as a good choice.

“So, there's something I should tell you about before then.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon Time: Matsuda is taller than Junko. 
> 
> Have a nice day~


	8. A Hard-luck Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies, everyone. There's no excuse for not updating the story for almost two months now. I'll be honest I'm feeling kinda down lately so unfortunately it influences my productivity (which wasn't so great in the first place anyway) and also there were other things I needed to get done so I've been procrastinating the writing.
> 
> So don't worry-- I didn't abandoned the story. Anywho, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and still have faith in me.

The playground mantled a dimness that was gradually swallowing any remaining rays of light. The air began to cool down, excluding the little bits of sunbeam casting a warm light across the swings’ area; where the two of them sat together.  
  
With a firm decision in mind, Matsuda knew there was no turning back. For the first time, he took a huge risk when choosing to share this story with another person. Even if the girl next to him wasn't the ideal choice, he couldn't think of another human-being any more trustworthy.  
  
“It’s my mom. She's hospitalised for a very long time. I'm here because she can't take care of me anymore.” he started speaking with slight hesitation, his fingertips fidgeted nervously onto the rusty swing chains. Enoshima remained quiet as he spoke, giving him her most earnest expression before she decided to reply.  
  
“What happened to her?”  
  
To answer that question he had to do his best to ignore the itching at the corners of his eyes as he urged himself to pry through bitter memories. His mouth halted as if he forgot how to talk, until a sudden rush of heated blood was pumping eagerly through his vessels and managed to quell his daze, tearing down all the invisible barriers his mind built over the years in an instant.  
  
“Nothing special, she’s just sick.”  he grimaced inwardly, the word 'just’ felt such an understatement. “She has some kind of a brain disease. It causes a loss of short term-memory frequently, and it also damages the physical and mental health. It's a very difficult to face her all the time, when she's like this. She tried to run away several times, she always yells at everyone in her radius when she's in a bad mood. Sometimes it even goes to the point she hits me, she'd done that almost everyday when we still lived together. If my neighbors wouldn't have noticed the bruises on my body, I'd be probably hospitalized myself by now."  
  
“Sheesh, your mom sound like a real nutcase.”  
  
“It’s not her fault!” he hurried to object. “She hadn't always been like this. She was actually a good mother. She liked to smell flowers and to clean the house. It's the illness that changed her.” His own words didn't sound any familiar at all, they had a completely different tone than the one in his heart.

But he couldn't help being welled up by the urge to defend his mother at any cost, because doing otherwise just didn't feel right. So many of the scars he still sports are there because of her, but the _illness_ was the bargain chip that excuses every harm the woman had inflicted upon him. “Because of it she doesn't remember anything about her life. S-she can't recognize me.”  
  
Enoshima shot him a puzzled glare. “Wait, so she doesn't remember you?”  
  
“Not at all, and I can't address her as my “mom” or even mention our relation to her either. The doctors say it's “too risky to force too much information on someone in her condition”.” he hoisted his fingers as a couple of air quotes.  
  
“That doesn't make a lick of sense to me.” the red-haired exclaimed agitatedly. “So does that mean you have to go there every month and just pretend that you're some stranger who wants to see her? And do they actually expect her to believe that?”  
  
Matsuda slowly nodded and looked down at his feet. “Whatever I tell her, she mostly forgets about me visiting at all, and even when she does recognize my face, it doesn't make her very happy to see me again.”  
  
“And if so? Whoever these “doctors” are, they sound like a bunch of jerks!” the other tsked contemptuously. “I mean, it's easier for them to deal with her when they're so many and know what to do. But you are on your own in this, you're the one who's forced to deal with her every single month while not being able to tell her the truth. And they don't even allow you to call her your mother!”

Much to his shock, Enoshima brought his own latent grudge into words. The rage lacing from her words seemed far too real to be a mere act to gain Matsuda's trust, as if she could actually feel his distress.  
  
He felt a stone slowly being lifted above his heart, knowing that she was just as infuriated as he was. He looked at his friend in the eye, giving her a look full of gratitude he didn't know how to convey otherwise.  
  
"I bet that doctor I met back in the day was one of them too. He looked like a big idiot himself now that I think about it, am I right?"

Matsuda couldn't help but to let out a small snicker of agreement. But while it felt relieving to mock the adults so freely, her words still brought unpleasant memories of last time's... _ordeal._

"When I think about it, I clearly remember that you were rather upset. Now I understand why, if you're mom is just as bad as you say she is. Did he actually left you all by yourself with that crazy woman? How negligent of him!"

He wasn't sure if he really should tell her about what really happened back there.  But on second thought, there was no point hiding it anymore. He practically was spilling the beans Enoshima's sister was still willing to keep for herself for quite longer than expected.  
  
As much as he resented the other girl, Ikusaba was indeed doing him some sort of favor (mainly because Enoshima asked her to, of course. Besides, it'd probably be very awkward the next time he'd see her again)-- he should at least repay her as well by lifting that burden of keeping his secrets.  
  
“Last time I just couldn't take it anymore. I snapped at her. To make things worse, I actually _wanted_ to hurt her. I wanted to get her back for everything. But it doesn't actually matter because she'd probably already forgotten about it the moment I left. Sometimes I can't help but think I hate her, even though it's not actually her fault. I can't even understand what keeps me from giving up on her entirely. I don't understand why hating her feels so wrong… Maybe that's because she's my mom, and what kind of son would I be if I hated her? But on the other hand, I don't feel attached to her the way I used to. Does that… makes me a bad person?” His gaze found itself fixed on the empty streets before him, only to discover darkness has already fallen upon it.

_Was he actually a bad person?_

He was too scared to think about Enoshima's answer to that question, still refrained to look at her in the eye. Hating the physicians at least had some legitimation to it. But to feel hate towards his own mother, the one who gave him everything she could while she could-- it was wrong in so many ways.

In the fictional worlds he encountered while reading, parents and their children shared strong bonds, so strong that they seemed unstoppable. When he compared those to his own relationship, nothing about it matched what he read about-- it was out of his reach and it hurt.

A tender touch pulled him out of his daze, he looked to its direction, and much to Matsuda's absolute shock-- he saw his friend reaching out to him with her free arm, eyes as soft as the sensation of her hand on his.

When was the last time he was touched like that?

Oh right, months ago when they were still hanging out and holding hands. Somehow he already managed to forget about it. He missed to be touched, in all honesty, mainly because he knew that his own mother won't touch him like that ever again.

“No way! Just because you can't love your mom doesn’t make you a bad person. Trust me, I don't hold any feelings for my parents either, wherever they are right now, and I'm sure that nobody really cares about it. This child-parent relationship ideal doesn't always work out in real life. We don't have to like or forgive the people who hurt us so many times just because they're our parents, am I right?”

She then heaved her hand up in the air and smiled confidently. “So the next time you go, if she tries to lay a hand on Matsuda-kun again, I'll be there to defend you! And I'll make sure to give those stupid doctors a piece of my mind!”

At these words, Matsuda's own lips formed a faint curve upwards. “Thanks, Enoshima.”

She slowly took her hand off, and the boy was already missing the touch. But he wasn't stupid enough to admit it outloud, and was compelled to watch her arm recede.

“You and I are more alike than I thought, Matsuda-kun…” Enoshima's gaze shifted towards the sky as she leaned back in her swing. “I knew we had something in common when I first met you, but now I understand it's more than that. Even if we don't come from the same background.”

Her statement caught his attention, looking back at the girl with raised brows. “'not from the same background’?”

Enoshima seemed more than delighted that he asked, baring a soft, playful grin. “You're here because your mother's sick, but I hardly know why I'm here. I don't even have a sob story to cry about at nights. And that's kinda sucks, right? You're probably expected me to have some heck of a tale. But no, I'm just here, some random parentless girl and my twin sister, and we don't even share our last names.”

“Yeah, I was kinda wondering why--.”

“Mukuro and I didn't come from the same father.” The girl said immediately, not letting him finish. Her statement came off as a shock to his ears, too sudden it had to be questioned.

“What? But you said you’re twins. How's that even possible?”

“We’re more like half-twins, still twins though. And it is possible in some very rare cases. Our mother probably was with two different people while having one of us, as far as I know we were named each after her biological father. But I was practically a toddler when me and Mukuro-chan came here, I can't really remember my mother's face or the reason why she didn’t want us.” she shrugged nonchalantly, like none of what came out of her mouth was a big of a deal.

As he took a few seconds to observe her, Matsuda's shock faded away rather quickly when another speculation came to mind. “Are you making that up?” he asked with a mid-way snicker.

“Who knows?” Enoshima smiled smugly in return, “You don't have to believe me. Many asked me the same thing, and I told some that me and Mukuro are twins separated from birth, or that the staff got our names mixed up by mistake, and the list goes on. But that doesn't really matter in the end.”

That answer could never fully guarantee his suspicion, but it didn't really matter. When it came to Enoshima, he already learned not to question it. 

“Then why are we so alike?”

“We’re different from the rest. You and me are aware of things other kids still refuse to acknowledge. Matsuda-kun, you don't try to pretend everything's going well in you life. You know being miserable is okay-- you're genuine. I'm kinda jealous of that.”

Enoshima's smile turned sad when she made eye contact with the boy beside her again. Matsuda stared back without a clue if he should take her words as a compliment. It was just like before, when she called him 'different’ with the happiest grin he'd ever seen.

“In my case, when I predict almost anything that might happen I've already realized how boring living on this planet truly is, everything that happens in humans’ lives just repeats itself over and over until they die before they can realize it. Finding something new to make me happy and excited, or even sad and angry about my life-- it's impossible. Sometimes, I wonder why was I born this way, or why was I even born at all.”

That statement sent a slight shiver down his spine at first, but then felt a strange familiarity when the words finally sank in. Why did they have to be born into a life that wouldn't let them be at ease?

“Well, at least we've got each other.”

“Yup!” The girl replied cheerfully, satisfied with the conclusion he made.

* * *

 

A few hours after the end of their conversation passed into the night, Matsuda found himself unable to fall asleep. The two of them managed to sneak back in right when supper was over and hide among the crowd of  satiated and chattering children into the dorms unnoticed.

His body shifted restlessly beneath the sheets, not finding any position comfortable enough to stay in. In his hands, was the book he picked back earlier from the ground.

He'd never held a book without reading it for so long in his entire life, but for some reason he was still hesitating to start reading, to be honest. He couldn't know if the reason for that was because he wanted to save the reading for another day, or if it was because this book didn't come from his expenses, but given to him as a gift from another person; the second option was more likely.  

It was intriguing how his friend knew exactly what to give him, the logical speculation was that she was familiar with the first novel. But he knew her good enough to know it wasn't it, the girl could barely spend a minute surrounded by nothing but books, or even finish one page without complaints. To think she came all the way to a store just to give him the one he wanted, that was kind of… _sweet_ \-- He thought as he ran his thumb delicately across the cover, not ready to reveal the words inside just yet.

It was as if he saw it more as a souvenir rather than an actual book than meant to be read. He could keep brushing off some remains of dirt and dust, but the knowledge that Enoshima's fingerprints once touched it still remains. It was an odd thought, why did that make a difference who held the book before?

After few long minutes of inaction the boy jumped out of his bed. Before, he'd never thought of leaving the room late at night when it was strictly forbidden, well, before he'd never let anything keep him awake at night for so long, not even reading. He went to grab a light before tiptoeing his way back.

The moment he threw himself back on the bed, he quickly draped the blanket over his head as a curtain, turned the lantern on as he finally opened the book in his hands and started reading.

 


End file.
